Nose

Soph Gibson

Australia

write stories | draw stories | live stories

Message to Readers

This was written really quickly, so I am open to anything.

Scents

March 11, 2015

GROUP: Flash Fiction

"Hey," I whispered.

"Hey," was my equally quiet reply.

Trying to keep my calm, I inhaled, swirling aromas filling my sense. Wet dog, pepper, pinetrees, marshmallows. These were the scents that would be inscripted into my mind, forever. As silence filled the space between us on the empty bench, and blurred the dying sunset around me, I did what I knew to do. Analyze.

Wet dog. Buster, a shabby border collie, was waiting for me at home.

Pepper. A pepper grinder, broken across the floor, was left in the restaurant I just left.

Pinetrees. Tall shadows, shetering from the fresh glow of the pale ball that hang in the sky, showing my present.

Marshmallows. The sweet smell of sugar cut through the mild of the rest, bringing her back to the harsh reality that was expecting her return, tapping its foot impatiently.

"You know this is only if you want."

Her words swam through the clutter in my mind, searching for the small patch of clarity and common sense that they desperately needed to find. Run away. Forever. No contact with those people. No weak and strong. Just her. And me. And the moon.

A high pitched squeal errupted around her, extracting her from her world. It ruined her thoughts, like black ink spilling across a page.

"Get the doorbell, Ruth!"

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  • March 11, 2015 - 4:01am (Now Viewing)

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