“Ah, that’s better,” he thought. That old duct had been hanging there, heavy and uncleaned for four decades, and now it was gone.

It had only hurt a little when it was removed. Black grime from air being sucked towards to the 70 year old furnace had poofed all over the basement, and ancient objects fell, old pencils, thumb tacks, a layaway receipt for Sears Robuck. Several two-foot dust bunnies that could have been sewn into shawls.

There was talk of doing more work, of replacing the old furnace, cleaning the other ducts, putting in new floors and walls. Unlike the humans, he could be given new life in his old age. Or, just as easily, he could be killed, ripped to the ground to make way for young condos.

But this human would restore him, use her sweat to buy him more life for a little longer.