The Smell

Got back after lunch, ready for a bit of a siesta. I'd just put my head on the pillow and was drifting off when a dreadful smell assaulted me. Monica asked whether it was me. I was a bit shirty about that and made quite a show of closing the bedroom window. It's cabbage and rotten eggs and something completely undefinable but definitely revolting. And, I'm afraid to say, there was a gurgle when I flushed the loo earlier. Perhaps another hundred years was a bit optimistic. I do hope clearing out drains is not a skill I'm going to have to acquire.