“Indoor air is even worse. It’s filled with everything you find in the city and outdoors, then seasoned with the dried feces and desiccated corpses of little insects called dust mites.
Remember waking up in the morning and seeing from under your covers the warm rays of a new sun cutting a soft, brilliant path into your bedroom? Snuggled beneath your blanket, you might watch the sunlight set the air ablaze with millions of lazy scintillations that lull you back to a peaceful sleep. You wake again in your own due time, and think of buttered toast, eggs, juice, with maybe a side of bacon or sausage. You pull the covers back, rub your eyes, enjoy a long, lazy, yawning stretch as you rise from bed — and start sneezing.
That sneeze? Those itchy eyes? That’s the scintillating little pieces of dead dust mites clogging up your nose while the live ones camp out at the base of your eyelashes.
God has a sense of humor. I suppose that’s a charitable way of describing a deity who makes us breathe tiny corpses.”