Everything is better with you around. I make the same meal for myself but it can’t compare to the luxury my taste buds get when I eat the food with you. I close my eyes and inhale the rich scent of coffee in the morning and try to imagine you doing the same thing but the illusion evaporates as soon as I open my eyes. I go to bed at night, the bed we both love and find comfort it, but the emptiness fills my hollowness. I’ve stopped breathing in your lingering fragrance on the pillow; I turn my back on it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to smell it. I want to see and smell you.

2 thoughts on “Fragrance

  1. I didn’t have time to comment on this yesterday.
    It brought to mind the most famous scene in the film Tom Jones and I can imagine the events over a meal when the loved one returns home progressing similarly; maybe it will become a scene in a future novel from you?
    I like the idea that it could be either a man or woman ‘speaking’.


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