Have you ever noticed that there is NO smell as haunting, as pervasive, as difficult-to-track as an off lemon???
It starts small, an alcohol fruity tang in the air... and grows till the smell is EVERYwhere and you cannot find it, even, apparently, when you're sitting right on top of them.
When I came home from Calgary last month, I kept saying something smelled off. I'm usually very good at tracking smells. That and my unusually good spelling (not savant-level, but pretty good!) are what I consider my main "gifts," trivial though they may be. (the spelling thing led to a pretty good start to a writing career, so don't knock it)
Spelling and smelling.
Anyway, after what seemed like weeks but was probably just days of being bothered by the rancid lemoniness, I finally found the source: a plastic produce bag had fallen off the ledge onto the sofa, then slipped, unnoticed, under the cushions. Surprisingly, only one lemon in the bag was moldy, but it was moldy enough for all five (Ted actually asked why we couldn't use the others...ew!). Five lemons, lost in the sofa!
Now the smell is back. I know it so well. Ted can barely notice it, but I know. Somewhere, in the house, lurks a lemon. Maybe just one, maybe a bunch. Maybe not exactly a lemon, but something citrusy and something definitely off.
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