Where are the Mushrooms?

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So they say, the grass is always greener over the septic tank, in our case, it’s the route I worry about.

I seemed to have arrived in the office earlier than the usual ten minute late time, and chaos explodes, or in this case, leaks. The door slit exhibited a seemingly Afghanistan scene of people in jackets, with handkerchief covered mouths, all pale, and sick, and high from some bad form of poison as it appears. Apparently, the brown line stains from the door panel were not spawn of Philippine storms at all, but still organic, from the higher floor occupants, who happened to be the building land lady’s.

Disinfectant sprays, colognes, eu de toilette, eu de parfum, open windows, coal, rat-corpse hunting, name it, we’ve tried it, all to no avail. It was concluded, there was no dead parasite in the ceiling gaps, it was not the new game from the other department, and it was not a dead baby carcass left by our witch-like admin as well. It was just a leak, from a very disgustingly unpleasant source.

I wonder when the mushrooms will grow?