A sweet dash of lavender and a hint of fresh lemon—it’s a fragrance I can never forget.
When I was a wee lad, a distant relative of my mom, at least I think she was, stayed at our home when she was visiting our country; I think for the first time. Being the dutiful son that I was—besides being bribed and otherwise coerced—I gave up my room so she could use it. I don’t remember her name, nor her face or her form, but I can’t ever forget the wonderful aroma that was always about her. I remember my room smelling and feeling feminine for days after she’d left. I remember wishing for more as it started to fade; that magically she would show up from time to time so that my room would never lose that feeling.
That was over fifteen years ago.
Earlier today, as I was catching up on some reading in a park, the whiff of a woman tanning beside brought back those wonderful memories.
pundit@emphaticallystatic.org
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