Smells rarely get used in descriptions, or, at least, I’ve never truly noticed any good ones. The smells are usually blandly described, like “acidic” or “acrid” or “nice.”
So, today’s prompt is simple. Describe the smell of the room around you (or one you’ve recently visited). I’ll go first.
As I opened the bathroom door, I was hit with the brutal reek of mint mouthwash. The smell soured my nostrils, but I counted my blessings. It could have been worse–it could have been the heavy, sickly sweet mint masking half-dry vomit.
One thought on “On smells”
There’s also the sting of too much perfume, trying desperately to bring approval to your senses but resulting only in annoyance. And then there’s a smell that I think only occurs in female dorms–a little sweat, a little lotion, a little something else entirely–that is almost overbearing, assailing you as soon as you step foot in the door, but you like the company and you must to ignore in order to be a good guest. Eventually, it recedes to the back corners of the mind, but it’s still there, threatening to accidentally slip out in conversation.