Sublime

And then he’s outside, breathing the dirty air of Poolbeg Street, brackish odour of the quays.

It was a warm night, early August and smelled like it. Food gone off and traffic exhaust and antiquated sewage systems.

It was like breathing through a wet bath towel.

coloured wash she had put on before work would be sour in the machine, a wet, tangled wad smelling powerfully of mould.