Rogue Glacier

Navigated across the raised threshold and steered straight onto the cold ceramic plains of the kitchen. Dead ahead lay an unexpected hazard: a rogue iceberg. A stray ice cube sat isolated on the grout line, sweating a slick moat across the grey tile. I closed the distance, planted my boots firmly in the tub, and drove my silver hook into its frosty shoulder. One sharp shove! The block broke suction, skimming smoothly across the wet fairway before bumping the cabinet baseboard. Solid glacial mass. I hooked a dislodged crystal shard onto the tub's rim, cold water beading against the brown timber. Galley passage secure.