The Other and One

In my building there are well-meaning workers and a building manager. They work regularly on issues of great importance for a building whose owners were in the past willing to spend almost nothing in order to maintain the structure. One of them washes the floor with the most disgusting of substances. It is the kind of water-soluble substance that, if diluted enough, it is harmless, to humans at least. But, these workers care little for proportion and know almost nothing about the carcinogenic nature of the complicated substances they use. They regularly mix the substance into the water in huge portions, in other words making a cleaning solution of incredible potency. That potency is toxic. One can sense its harmful nature when entering the building after a day at work or away on some excursion. The smell is sickeningly pleasant and those who apply it have seemingly grown so accustomed to the power of the scent that they cannot sense it with their olfactory nerves. These workers know how much I disdain the smell and I have talked with them about changing the cleaning solution for the building. When my expression, contorted into a kind of vile grimace, demonstrates to them that the smell is offensive, a nascent smile curls onto their face, ascending from the chin.