Something In The Air

(a drabble)

Breathing was an exersise in itself. The air flowed through his nostrils, bringing the scents around him to his attention, molecules dancing in his nose and tantalizing his nerves. He could discern them all: sweat; the many flavours of dust (the slow crumbling of brick and mortar, paint flakes, pine boards, the rough, old musty smell of wood uncured and untreated, skin flakes, dried mud); warm wool; goose feathers; floor wax; lemon disinfectant; vanilla wipe; the lingering aroma of beef, tomato and cheese; camomile; coffee; mint toothpaste and herbal shampoo.

Home.

Jim decided to lie in and breathe some more.

-- Kathryn Andersen