Realistic things are over there, and I’m over here.

As I sat in his room, I could smell his freshly laundered clothes all around me, some of which even hung drying from a ceiling light about my head. I said it was like air freshener. He said that he was used to it by now, and couldn’t smell it anymore. Then he mentioned that someone, he didn’t know who, had borrowed his vacuum to vacuum up some roses, and now every time he vacuums, the flat fills up with the smell of roses.

Notes

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