A Log of Smells

it is morning and the air is crisp until tobacco smoke fills it and I once again break my stop. It’s happening more frequently, I need to find a new way.

I spray some Issey Miyake and all feels well. It is my trademark aftershave and has been for several years now. It recalls my brother, who bought it for me, as well as good memories of nights and days that I won’t forget.

Half 6, out the door. The air is crisp again, but tempered by dog shit, cigarette butt. I light anew.

Down into the metro. The smells are clean, as sanitising fluid on concrete should smell. The lady who normally greets me with ‘dobry dano, hezky den’ as she hands me a copy of the metro is not here today. I hope she is well. My nose is overtaken by the oil of he escalators, the engine of the metro.

A Coffee Shop. Int. Day. Freshly crushed coffee beans, hot milk, sugar caramelising as I drop a packet into mine. It is good. The lesson goes well.

Half 8, got a real hunger for chicken, head to my favourite fast food. But I wish I had more. At 8:43, I realise I left my passport at home.




The Colonel Sends His Regards


Rush home, as fast as transport and my sizeable legs can carry me. Ignore smell. More important I arrive as on time as possible.

Arrived further out than I have gone before. More tobacco smell, but also some open grass. It’s good that in the middle of a business park they find space for something natural. Otherwise, we all might lose our minds.

Class finished for 5 hours, to the school. Spend a while drinking coffee, instant with a drop of cold water to minorly improve flavour, and reading stuff before afternoon cancels and I invite Maura out for a drink. Frothy, hoppy, flavourful Kozel before the tram home.

All is human bodily aroma and grey.

Back at the flat, say hi to a baby. Give up lift to baby’s parents until 1st floor, where I get in. The Father warns me it smells like someone who hasn’t washed for a week. Hearing him, I get in to a gust of disgusting dog odour.

The bouquet of the city.


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