Soot.

Soot everywhere. Soot on the carpet, soot up the walls. Soot on the windowsill, covering the photo frame.

Soot in the air. The smell of soot. Getting to the back of my throat. My nose running, my sinuses churning out gunge.

Soot on the bottom of my shoes, being trampled round the rest of the house. Soot on my jumper, on my jeans. Bits in my hair.

Soot everywhere. On the stairs. In the bedroom. Soot. Soot. Soot.

In short, it’s sooty.

I can’t blog in these conditions. I’m an artiste. I need a proper working environment. (non-sooty).

I may write something later.

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