A certain air

There is a smell, a sweetness of drains, chemicals, the pollen of dyestuff, trapped in the runnels of tiles, the dampnesses of dye-kitchens, pooled in the unevenness of floors, that was the start of Mondays, the first morning after the holidays, a beginning before the boiler fired, the compressor hummed, and the steam cracked. It was a sweetness I smelt on my first day, at the beginning of my last week, and, in between, on days when, for a moment, I believed I could be ambitious

Jeremy Duffield Web Warp Weft   ©3rd July 2001 Jeremy Duffield (text) Helen Whitehead (design)