Comhroinn Fuaime

Over time… the body remembers… Even when the mind… tries to forget… The smell… is the first thing… that stays… It does not fade… when the work is done… It follows… Into the streets… Into the small rooms… where the workers rest… Into their clothes… their hands… their skin… No amount of water… seems enough… Because the scent… is not only outside… It feels… as if it has settled… within… And so… people know… Without asking… Without looking… They step aside… slightly… The