my bed smells of leaves and twigs and the lake. the herbs from my front garden and the heady flavor of grass. the detergent tom bought has a sharp scent that smells of the towels when i was a child visiting my grandmother. the combination of the sharp soapy scent and the hard water and the damp basement laundry under the kitchen. it is a scent that lingers and is part of an extended memory of childhood. tonight my pillow holds mostly the outdoor scents from hanging in the sun and billowing in the lake scented wind for most of the afternoon. but my crisp white cotton shirt i sleep in has the smell of my grandmother's towels still. the shirt with the tiny holes where the seams meet. like stress fractures.
stella is sitting on the roof below our bedroom window. crying to come in. it's time for us to sleep.
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