I was on my way out the door, when something caught my eye. I did a double take. I peered closer. There, hanging out beneath my bookshelf, was dust. My excavation turned up not just a little, but a lot. I had a new career as a dust archaeologist. I had a choice–bust the dust or make a fuss. In the recent past, I have busted the dust, but dust is a repeat visitor, hanging out, growing exponentially. Is that true for dusters everywhere? If not, this could be the start of something lucrative. I could open a museum. If you would like to donate to my collection, please contact me privately.