Penicillium

I haven't been home since December 6, 2025. After our honeymoon, my husband and I returned to an apartment flooded with an outbreak of mold. Since then I've felt cloudy and murky, almost like the mold infected my brain, vision, and sense of self.

I tried to fight back, I started pottery classes and kept busy. I was hoping I could avoid the germination, but the spores had spread and I found myself opaque, lost, and confused. I felt fearful of the fog.

But I've been persistent and I've been rejecting the infection, gnawing at its tether, acting as its foil. I've planted seeds of my own, that I've gathered on my morning walks, and steeped in my evening teas.

As remediation continues, I can peer through the veil, but I'll keep it close. A journey is a journey nonetheless. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer.