Adjectives on the Typewriter

she moves her words like a prizefighter

05 April 2006

...gone faster than the smell after it rains...

Walking across the quad in the light rain, I was surprised to find that the smell of wet grass reminded me of parks, and brought me almost instantly to several distinct scenes from my childhood. I am comforted that my memory is indeed triggered by smells, since sight and sound so often fail me.

Also, I can no longer accomplish anything while in the confines of my room. It possesses some constraining force that binds my mind and suffocates all thoughts struggling within.

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