Remember my neighbor who was throwing up every time she went to visit her apartment in New York? After several weeks, she returned. The doorbell rang and there she was. “Some of your mail ended up at our house,” she said by way of greeting.
She handed me the errant envelop but underneath it I spied a lab report. “So, you got back the mold test results?” I ventured.
“Yes, and they were very bad,” she frowned handing me them to me. “Apparently, the counts are high enough to make the occupants sick. That would be me.”
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