Mountains high, Valleys low

Tall and ugly, brown and high as they could ever go. Mountains upon mountains of brown and white, a eye filling expanse. Not the jagged stones of the foothills outside, no. But the boxes of furniture, books and all things moved from one home to the next. An exhausting view. Exhausting because of the work to put everything into a place, space, nook and recess. Exhausting because of the wasted space by items I never knew I had and certainly did not want to pack. Exhausting because I just want someone else to sort it out. But. They. Can't.

Muscles pulled, hair, eyes, ears, nose and clothes filled with dust, dirt, grime and the occasional carcass of dead insect. 

Hot steaming bubbling baths or pummelling soap sudded showers will not cleanse the body of all that has invaded the slightest crevice of skin.

Gin, though, might.