The Scent

It was just now that I recognized my hate for cooking. Traveling for days in my memories it started to appear, as slow as a flying bird with an injured wing. The smell was old like newspapers, it held in it a rotten odor of neglect and carelessness. Recalling the details was like looking at some vague incomprehensible shapes in the middle of the fog. The scent of this frustrating cooking class at the basement of my school tortured my stomach. It was as sharp as poison and not strong nor appealing, like a ghost hiding in the corner, teasing me constantly and unseen except by my little stormed soul. The aging teacher with her apron smelling of dirt agitated me. Calling this period a life lesson class was ironically killing me. Now that I feel invaded with this dusty grey patched scent I no longer wonder why I run away from any kitchen work. 

One thought on “The Scent

  1. A teacher is a window to the world so better to be a clean, clear & on a nice view so U can C the world in a cheerful loving way ❤️

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s