SCENTS
Anika Proddutoor It’s the smell of nostalgia. That sticky smell of watermelon sour candy we frantically ate at the wee hours of the night. I smelled it again. This time it was the smell of It continues. The smell of freshly baked cookies. I haven’t baked in years? The smell of black tea being made on the stove. You were changes every day, but it always reminds me of one thing. The next day, it was the smell of salty bitter tears. The smell of rotting the nostalgia anymore. All I smelled was
books, untouched.
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