LXXIV


Everything smells like gasoline around here. More accurately, everything smells like a combination of gasoline and tamarind. More accurately, everything smells like gasoline, tamarind and week-old kitchen sponge. More accurate yet, everything smells like gasoline, tamarind, week-old kitchen sponge and Sunday newspapers. You know what? Everything smells exactly the same to me anyway, so all I do is come up with intriguing combinations of objects that I believe may smell like the one melange of odors I’m constantly whiffing. I apologize for taking up so much of your time, good sir–it may never happen again.

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