Vanilla. It came to me the second my eyes opened the next morning. As if I had dreamt about it during the night. If I did, I didn’t remember it. Her perfume. The sweet smell I couldn’t put my finger on. It was vanilla. Warm vanilla. Maybe it smelled differently straight out of the bottle and it was her body heat that changed the scent. From something you associated with ice cream, to something else, something that had nothing whatsoever to do with ice cream. The floral scent was still out of my reach. I don’t know flowers, never cared for them, especially roses. It’s not the rose, per se, it’s
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