Clean System

I spent the better part of fifteen years putting things into my body that had no business being there. Brick dust. Cement. Whatever was in the spray foam. Solvents I breathed in a sealed loft because the job had to be done and the window didn't open. Then a meal deal eaten on a paint-spattered seat with hands I'd wiped on my jeans because there was nowhere to wash them. Nobody told me this added up. You don't feel it adding up. You feel fine, you feel strong, you can carry a bag of plaster up two flights and still take the mick out of the new lad. And then one day you're 34 and you wake up tired in a way that sleep doesn't fix, your guts are…