My honed sense of smell doesn't only register pancakes in the building. I was walking through the supermarket today, tiredly ignoring everyone around me, intent only on stopping briefly at the cheese section and the yogurt section and then making it out of there as soon as possible.
Then it dawned on me that I was feeling loved. Safe, comforted and happy. It's definitely not an everyday feeling for me. It was so distracting that I stopped in my tracks and couldn't remember where I was going anymore.
What had happened was that I had walked past a man wearing a lot of aftershave. Not only a very nice aftershave, but one that used to be worn by someone who loved me. I can't even recall who. My father? An ex-boyfriend?
Reeling from the experience, I came home with the wrong kind of cheese and entirely too much comfort icecream.
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