The drill whirred like a wasp in a bottle, slicing into the drywall with mechanical indifference. Marcus held it steady, jaw tight, arms locked. His girlfriend, Eliza, watched from across the room, leaning on the doorframe with a mug of coffee and a raised eyebrow.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked, amused.
“Absolutely,” Marcus muttered, ignoring the bead of sweat trailing down his temple.
He wasn’t just mounting a shelf. He was reclaiming dominance over the space. Over the past few weeks, the walls had begun closing in—figuratively, at first. Forgotten boxes. A cluttered corner. Bills stacked like slow-burning accusations. He told himself a single, well-placed shelf could bring order to it all.
But the moment the drill pushed deeper, the wall gave a soft, almost apologetic crack.
He froze. The drill stopped. Dust plumed around the bit like smoke after a shot.
“Eliza,” he said slowly, “do you hear that hissing?”
Her smile vanished. “What did you hit?”
Marcus pulled the drill back. Behind the hole, something metallic glinted. A hiss grew louder. He stepped back, heart in his throat, as cold air snaked out—followed by the distinct, unholy scent of gas.
“I thought I scanned for pipes,” he whispered, more to himself.
“You didn’t check the blueprint,” Eliza snapped, already moving toward the shutoff valve.
In the panic that followed—windows thrown open, gas shut down, apologies tumbling from his lips—Marcus found himself staring at the small, perfect hole in the wall. It wasn’t just drywall and piping. It was a rupture. A reflection.
He always rushed. Dove deep before thinking. Relationships. Jobs. Expectations. Every time he drilled in, hoping for stability, he uncovered chaos.
Later, with the crisis averted and silence humming between them, Eliza touched his hand.
“You okay?” she asked.
He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at the wall. At the shelf he never finished.
“I think,” he said finally, “I need to figure out why I keep breaking things I want to fix.”
She squeezed his hand.
Sometimes, deep penetration doesn’t secure anything at all. Sometimes, it just reveals exactly what’s broken underneath.