Added to that, the idea of small, invisible creatures flitting here and there made her itchy and in want of a bath—preferably a complete dousing in boiling water and lye soap, sending any small creatures to meet their maker. “Why do I feel dirty?” Grant said, when they reached the building’s central hall again, and rubbed at his chest with a very discomfited expression. “You are not the only one.” She stopped, looked at him. “Do you believe it? That we’re surrounded by little . . . things?” “I don’t know enough to say one way or the other. But I certainly don’t like it.” “You know what’s
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Interesting twist on the theory of microbes :D
