"How!?"
This was the third time James had screamed in anger. At first, cleaning the room seemed simple enough, but every time he moved something, another pile of dust exploded everywhere.
'Enough of this shit!'
James stomped over to the balcony and slammed the doors open, letting cool wind pass into the room, disrupting the piles of crap he'd already swept up. He breathed in the fresh air deeply and spun back to face the decrepit room.
He then stomped over to the door that led into the hall and propped it open. From top to bottom is how he started this time. Using his shirt wrapped on the end of the broom, he beat the dust and cobwebs out of corners and swiped at the small chandelier in the middle of the room.
One of the chairs in the living room had been so dilapidated that James drug it out the balcony and cast [Firebolt] on it, burning it to ash.
After two hours of this cleaning frenzy, James had swept most of the dust into the hallway.
