or sign in with e-mail
by Arunansu Apr 22, 2008 category : Life, society / meaning of life
The bus freed up whiffs of gasoline. Sitting next to me, an aged passenger smelled of a pungent hair oil. During lunch time the malodor made me scream at the waiter. All eyes stared at me. Rosy remarked something about her new moisturizer, didn't hear her. The evening breeze was a sharp stink with my greased hands. Dinner was vegetables in an oil spill, I tumbled in stench. An acrid taste burned my entrails.