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A sweet smell floats in.
I am sitting at
my desk, typing.
Night after night I
find myself here,
watching time pass by on an
electronic display.
I type and type
hearing the
oddly comforting
click click of the
keyboard. Even my
family doesn't know that
that is the reason I
use it so much.
The sound.
It finds me solace
like the gritting of teeth.
I sit and type for
hours on end, hoping,
praying that another will
find my words to mean
as much to them as
they do to me.
I sit and stare at the
screen a million thoughts
running through my head,
then mental silence.
My nostrils wrap around
the warm smell of memories.
Chocolate chip memories.
I am taken back to
years before. This
is then washed away
by the smell of
Old Spice.
This of all smells
is by far, my favorite.
I resume typing my life,
resume falling into a keyboard.
Then I stop.
I check my life over.
A sweet smell floats in.
