They say the sense of smell is the strongest sense tied to memory.
It’s easy to believe it too.
I inhale, my mind sputters, and I’m at home as if in a time machine from some iconic 80s movie.
Decadent steam fills my mind as it rises
from a golden stack of Dad’s buttermilk pancakes,
poured directly from the lovingly grease-stained pages of The Joy of Cooking.
Dark sugary top notes of warm caramel
give way to an aromatic avalanche of pan-fried bacon,
blackened to my mother’s taste.
A whiff of her coffee wakes me from this fragrant dream.
Alone, no longer seven years old,
and driving to work while sipping on my own bitter roast.
Once again heading into the office where everything smells like bargain Pine sol,
laser-warmed toner, and cheaply painted drywall;
all of which remind me of nothing at all.
by D. Ryan Lafferty
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