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‘Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once.’ Use the senses to transport a character back to the past.

Posted in Character on Sep 29, 2023

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✍️ 49 stories

Time in a Bottle

Submitted to Contest #218

For Gemini the idea of motherhood, maybe womanhood itself, lives in one memory: hovering around her mother’s legs, crossed at the ankles, while she sat at her vanity table in her dressing gown. The bottles and tubes--5 creams for after bath, a different one for feet, legs, hands, face, and eyes--each had its smell: thick and oily in the pot, the light, close smell of safety and acceptance on the skin, for, just occasionally, while staring adoringly up at the process of transforming steaming, damp, prettiness into elegant perfection, Gemini g...

30 likes 23 comments 23
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English Leather

Submitted to Contest #218

He always wore English Leather. Sundays would come around and he’d tap lightly on the front door. His car would be idling outside, but before I’d hear the engine or see his blonde curls dangling above his Cheshire smile, I’d smell the English Leather. Like all good fragrances, it strikes you differently depending on which scent resonates in your memory. For some reason, I took the lemon first. It reminded me of a glass pitcher sitting on the counter. My mother on the porch, talking to a man I never knew the name of. That man had a softer eng...

27 likes 16 comments 16
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The Gingerbread Man

Submitted to Contest #218

“I don’t want to go there…” I whispered to nobody in the soft dim light of the Café, closing my eyes tight as if that could stop the memories from taking me back. I stopped, not five paces from the entrance, and knew I had to turn around and leave. I just wanted to run in for a coffee and danish on my way to work. The morning walk through the city was brisk and chilly, typical late November, yet steady streams of sunlight soaked into me. I’d felt happy and energized, until now.  The smell of gingerbread, warm and brown and sweet, fille...

25 likes 20 comments 20
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Sonset

Submitted to Contest #218

Clink! Glass bottles toasted in the cardboard box as I set it on my cluttered coffee table. The motherload. I knew it… Thanks Dad. That was the last of father’s things. My dark apartment still needed lamps, but it was lighter than my mood. I felt like life had shortchanged me and I couldn’t afford happiness—only cheap alcohol and maybe rent for the next few months. This delicate and familiar sound was profound to me. I felt a rush of relief realizing Dad was a hypocrite. Now, I could be disappointed because he had had a taste for it too...

22 likes 11 comments 11
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Going Up

Submitted to Contest #218

(TW .. this story contains references to verbal and emotional abuse.)Wearing her bathing suit and coverup she went into the elevator and hit the round button for her floor. Seeing her reflection in the mirrored walls she smiled. Finally, the long awaited girls’ trip to Cancun was here; five full days of laughter and conversation over food and drinks on the beach. Leaving her friends on their lounge chairs, she ran back up to her room for the forgotten sunscreen.Ding.The doors opened to four faces peering in. “Hola. G...

18 likes 12 comments 12
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Love in Lavender

Submitted to Contest #218

  Lavender. It fills the air around me on the busy New York City street outside my office. Its scent floods my nose and seizes my lungs. My feet stop. My mind stops. Then, memories charge in. "Caleb, breakfast is ready!" My mom's gentle yet firm voice calls up the stairs. I stumble out of my room with my baby blanket wrapped around my shoulders. She can never resist how young and frail I look with it. I stand at the top of the steps, the smell of eggs and fruit wafting towards me. "Baby, what's wrong?" She asks when she sees ...

18 likes 8 comments 8
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Running

Submitted to Contest #218

I can smell the salt of the sweat on my brow and neck, with hints of bug spray–the bouquet of harsh metal, lime, and kerosene. The hot concrete burns through the soles of my shoes. The residue of the chocolate gel I took fifteen minutes ago still covers my gums and coats my throat, which catches wafts of pollen and car exhaust, temporarily choking me as I gasp for air. The rush of cooling wind on my face and bare chest, the dopplerring woosh of cars passing, the caw of a raven, or the screech of a hawk. The scooting shuffle of startled deer...

15 likes 3 comments 3
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Preserved

Submitted to Contest #218

*Sensitive content - This story contains a scene dealing with the death of a family member Preserved Jimmy was 12 the first time he smelled formaldehyde.  He was at a sleepover at his neighbour Zach’s house. They were playing Dare, Dare, Double Dare when he challenged Zach to show him something he had never shown anyone before. Zach bounced off the bed, grabbed his flashlight and led Jimmy to the cellar entrance. "Wait 'til you see this," he squealed, taking the lead. The musty cellar smell was so thick Jimm...

15 likes 15 comments 15
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(Almost) Sweet Memories.

Submitted to Contest #218

The kitchen was barely lit. The sun started peaking over the trees in my backyard and the first brave rays of sun broke through the curtains, bathing the furniture in warm gold. My eyes were fixed on the numbers slowly descending on the display of my phone, glowing in thin, red numbers: 10 minutes and 22 seconds. The scent of the sweet, fruity aroma floated gently in the air, turning the unforgiving bite of December into a mixture of sugary warmth and coziness. I wrapped the blanket tightly around my shoulders and sighed. The numbers befo...

14 likes 6 comments 6
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The Weight of it All

Submitted to Contest #218

Ella Wallace shuffled down the hall after her mother's German Shepherd, Cooper, a yawn erupting sluggishly from her. The once clear plastic cone around the dog's neck continually snagged and then grazed along the walls, breaking up the serenity of early morning with short, choppy bursts of unpleasant scraping. The sky outside, Ella saw as she opened the back door for the dog to go out, was light though the sun had not yet risen. A pink smudge had faintly begun to paint itself across the lower horizon. As she gazed blearily outwards, Ella fel...

14 likes 10 comments 10
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Hymn for the Fallen

Submitted to Contest #218

Rusty Sherman was having one of his episodes.  Something always triggered these episodes whether it would be a certain heavy aroma or some object that would catch the corner of his eye or even a melody that once played from his sandblasted radio sitting on a table next to his rack in the barracks in Kandahar.   Whatever it was, the episode that followed was best described as unpredictable. Living in a small efficiency apartment on the shore of Saint Louis Bay near Oneta, Minnesota where he worked as a waiter at Besky’s, a shorelin...

13 likes 4 comments 4
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SMOKING THE BACON

Submitted to Contest #218

SMOKING THE BACON The tantalising aroma of bacon sizzling in the frying pan fills the air, beckoning me to indulge in its irresistible savouriness. It’s like a time machine for my senses, transporting me back to a simpler era, free from the hustle and bustle of modern technology and distractions. I nostalgically reminisce about my school summer holidays when I worked at my father’s bacon warehouse and the bustling Smithfield Meat Market, where I spent hours learning everything about the bacon industry. At the tender age of fifteen, I woke ...

12 likes 4 comments 4
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The Smell of Rotten Eggs

Submitted to Contest #218

I stood in our new duplex with the smell of rotten eggs flowing from the water faucet. Why does this smell continue to haunt me? I recalled when I was a twenty=nine-year-old chef and happily married with two children, until the smell of rotten eggs ruined my life The smell of rotten eggs brings me back to the time that everything in my life changed. This smell, however, was not rotten eggs at all. It was a smell that was identical to rotten eggs, but you probably have never heard of it. After I tell you my story you might understand where th...

12 likes 0 comments 0
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The Falling Leaf

Submitted to Contest #218

The smell hits me first. Yesterday morning mirrors today's in nearly every way, except today is the first day of fall, and the atmosphere in Witch’s Brew tangibly reflects the shift. Where lavender and fresh lemonade defined the summer, I now catch whiffs of pumpkin and apple cider. Wafting cinnamon gives the shop an autumnal edge (Autumnal in the corporate sense. It’s still 85 degrees in Arkansas). My mouth brims, gluttonous as I imagine pumpkin syrup melting on my tongue, laced with plenty of sugar, ginger, and cloves. In the South, we...

12 likes 3 comments 3
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A Hug Goodbye

Submitted to Contest #218

A bit of jiggling and some muscle to lift the knob and click. I heard the deadbolt slide like a vault. A ton of strength is needed for this old door. Old door, old home, old memories.  The antique door on its own held memories. When I was so tiny that I clutched onto my crocheted toy bunny for comfort, I would trace the grooves of the sunflowers etched into the wood, waiting to be greeted by hugs and promises of cookies. When I was in middle school and had to stay with Gran while I was sick because Mom had to work, I remember leaning ag...

11 likes 6 comments 6
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