The familiar scent.Whiffing through; a snapshot of a different era.
She stops what she's doing and stands perfectly still. She knows this scent. But it doesn't make sense. Where did it come from? And how can it just appear suddenly, out of nowhere? Is she imagining it?
She inhales deeply. It's real. It's not imagined. It's as strong as her certainty that she's breathing. It's as pungent as her fears and as present as her demons.
And then she realizes that it must have come through the open window. The window that's been left shut for years. The window she chose to open now. To let in some air. Never for a minute imagining that the breeze would carry a scent she'd long forgotten, yet so lovingly remembered.
Jasmine. Not just any jasmine. The Arabian jasmine she'd planted as a child, and worn around her neck as a young woman. Probably the only constant thing in her years of ambiguity. One of the many things she lost along with herself.
And now it had just invaded her subconscious in the space of a few seconds. Like it had never left her. Like it had never been lost to her. As if the years had never gone her by. But they had.
She turns toward the window. Without hesitation she pushes it. Tightly shut.
She stops what she's doing and stands perfectly still. She knows this scent. But it doesn't make sense. Where did it come from? And how can it just appear suddenly, out of nowhere? Is she imagining it?
She inhales deeply. It's real. It's not imagined. It's as strong as her certainty that she's breathing. It's as pungent as her fears and as present as her demons.
And then she realizes that it must have come through the open window. The window that's been left shut for years. The window she chose to open now. To let in some air. Never for a minute imagining that the breeze would carry a scent she'd long forgotten, yet so lovingly remembered.
Jasmine. Not just any jasmine. The Arabian jasmine she'd planted as a child, and worn around her neck as a young woman. Probably the only constant thing in her years of ambiguity. One of the many things she lost along with herself.
And now it had just invaded her subconscious in the space of a few seconds. Like it had never left her. Like it had never been lost to her. As if the years had never gone her by. But they had.
She turns toward the window. Without hesitation she pushes it. Tightly shut.
