sweet would be the fragrance of a dozen flea bombs

50 ways to leave your lover. 5 reasons to leave the house.

Plus 1 more.

Yesterday after being gone for 12 hours, I returned around half past 10 at night to a house that I thought had been fumigated. The pungent sharp stench I initially thought was a cigar – a bad cigar. Or a pipe.

The residence is small, passages and corners tight and cross-circulation scant and thus not improbable that the fumes of a cigar or pipe could quickly fill the house.

The longer I tried to breathe, identify the odor piercing my lungs and nauseating my system and measuring by permeation, I concluded that it was not a smoker’s product but possibly a bug bomb. One roommate had mentioned that they do one around autumn for spiders and such.

Poor spiders.

The stench pervaded, burned and made me ill, forcing me to step outside to breathe in clean air several times before retiring.

The flea bombs were never this toxic; indeed, sweet would be fragrance compared to the burning sickening smell in the house. I made finding out the product brand in the morning a first priority, both to research the ingredients and make mental note to never buy it

I vile odor is neither cigar nor bug bomb. The source: the next-door neighbors (where some half a dozen illegals reside) are remodeling the camper in their driveway; the impact of the toxic chemicals and substances being used is overwhelming.

One need stand only 50 feet from the vehicle and small storehouse of chemicals and materials alongside for the poisons to hit the nostrils, the throat, the lungs. They burn. They reek of body poisons. They make ill.

Yesterday one roommate was badly sickened; this morning another awoke with face and eyes swelled.

I’m coughing and wheezing; my airways are painfully constrict.

We are all struggling to breathe. We are all struggling.

The poisoning odors, transported by air flow, inescapably permeate the area, the yard. Being outdoors, with the vehicle so near in a neighborhood of small homes built closely together, is really unpleasant; being indoors is worse (and as my luck has it, the vehicle/products are about an arm’s reach outside my window).

Materials to strip camper interior and exteriors are not lightweight; they are not your standard bleach stored beneath the kitchen sink.

A toxic cloud has descended and it is here to stay for a good long while until the vehicle redo is done

It’s enough to make me want to call the health police.

If there were give reasons to leave the house before — and there were and are — now there are a solid six.

Quite seriously, my lungs and breath join me in needing a job.

N.O.W.

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