Jell-O Air

I ASSUMED THE MOLD problem would disappear once the offending shower was gone. The wet-socks odor would disappear and Wayne and I would be able to concentrate and count again. Life would return to normal.

But it didn’t.

I repeatedly walked through the house in search for signs of mold. I kept thinking there must be mold somewhere in order for the air to smell so bad and affect us so strongly.

But every room looked normal, clean, and beautiful.

There was no visible mold or mildew, no water stains on the ceiling, no clutter to hide such signs.

Our air looked like thick clear Jell-O. Tiny shimmering mold spores hung suspended in the air, each bumped up next to its neighbor. When I waved my hand to scatter the spores, they didn’t budge. The shimmering spores wiggled, but held firmly in their suspended locations.

Those tiny spores robbed us of our ability to think, count, focus, and breathe.

It wasn’t our house any more; it was theirs.

We were living on borrowed time.

9-27-2002