Odour

I am walking back the same route to my house as I always do, down an alleyway. It is monotonous, and I am bored. My consciousness is nodding off, and my legs walk on their own. My head is empty, and my senses are dialling down. Until the wind catches a scent. It must have come from another time; perhaps it has been hiding away for all these years, because as it brushes past me, my senses erupt. I catch the scent that was resting on the edge of the breeze, and I smell the odour for the first time. It has a kick like a mule and instantly envelopes my body, and like dynamite in my memory, it suddenly isn't just a smell, it’s an experience - I relive this smell, and I’m back there, in the prime of my youth, on a warm summer’s day, and I can feel it, both on my skin and deep in my heart. I am a child again, and colour seeps into my vision, and the world is true and honest, and I am merry and at peace. It’s not too warm, but I don’t feel cold. The sun is shining so bright, but it’s not in my eyes. The grass is so tall, but it’s not itchy - in fact, it’s comforting. Everyone around me is laughing and playing, and I can hear them call my name. Everything is just right, and I have absolutely nothing to worry about. I am care-free. 

Just as quickly as it came, all at once my senses are cut short, and I am back in the alleyway. The air is now bland and dry, and the odour has been blown away in an instant, and the breeze that carried it has gone away to hide behind the cusp of time. I try to sniff around to try and catch the odour again, but I know deep down that it’s gone. Not only has the odour eluded me, but so has my memory, as the surreal experience I just had is now nothing but a hazy, foggy, and patchy souvenir of the golden days of my childhood. However, I am not filled with frustration. Rather, I am hopeful. Perhaps it is these brief instances that keep us here, and we should look forward to them. To me, this served as a reminder that though time may not forgive, it does not let us forget.