The Bedtime Tales of Be287m

The Smells in the House

The smells in the house changed. A small thing, almost imperceptible, among all else. But significant beyond its size.

Gone is the mustiness wafting from the undusted corners around the bookcase. Gone is the mild stench from the perpetual pile of gym clothes on the bedroom floor instead of in the hamper. Gone is even the mixture of sweat and mildew and old urine that I could never quite clean out of the bathroom.

But now, a mélange of herbs seem to float through the kitchen, almost drifting in tiny scent bombs, seeking to ambush the unwary. Flowers call from the window box and invisible scented lotions seem dotted across the bathroom sink. Even the body odors clinging to the sheets have changed. Rounder with a touch of sexual passion past.

She doesn’t have to be home for me to be instantly aware of her as I walk in the door. I just take a sniff of the air in what was once my house. “My.” That possessive pronoun has changed. “Ours.” It’s a small thing, almost imperceptible among all else. But significant beyond its size.

--Fin--

© 2005, all rights reserved. May not be archived or distributed other than for personal use without explicit permission from the author.

Copyright Notice