Time Travel

A whiff is all it takes. Not a fraction more and she was there. Back where she never wanted to go again. For the same reason you hate looking at plastic chocolates when you are hungry.

Begging the memory to last a moment more...begging the aroma to linger a fragment more. Long enough to take it all in. But it never does, does it?

What exasperated Albert and led him to a point of no hope, the Olefactory senses did. Time travel.

The stinging aroma of a Clove flavoured facewash.

The smell of the water there, as she splashed it on her face..erasing the signs of a late night.

The bathroom and its memory of the disinfectant.

White bedsheets. The smell of them. The smell of them when she hid underneath. They were never meant to smell so good...

The artificial room freshener, and it stirs a brilliant image.

The curtains long out of use. Unmoved, dusty, memorable.

Damp towels and they smell of him. They were never meant to smell so good...

And a jolt from the dream. Lather on my hands. Of the Clove flavoured facewash.

Time Capsule

Happiness with a backward ticking clock can be a real pain in the ***. Nevertheless, if it is happiness like you've seldom experienced before, you can't but thank the lord!

Looking at him waiting for me at the station, and I knew in a moment that my lone journey for 17 hours was worth it. Worth the time and worth the lies.

Humans though, tend to focus almost involuntarily on something dperessing even in the most blissful of moments. And so did i. 'Only 38 hours and this will be over' kept playing in a morbid tune in my head even as i hugged him at what was only the beginning of the best 38 hours of my life.

What followed can be best described as surreal. An eerie time warp. The moments seemed to move slowly, sometimes even stopping and suddenly out of nowhere, a day had passed.

*Think about the glass half full...half full...half full*

Endless laughs, priceless smiles, a tear here n' there and a content soul.

Blink of an eye and its already 37 hours. Last minute dinner at the same place as the breakfast when I arrived. The cycle is completed.

Anyone who has said goodbye from the window of a moving vehicle knows that there is no greater sorrow...