It’s been a rough day. It was a rough enough weekend but at least i could slouch about like a beast, reading Tolkien, listening to Tristan und Isolde, and watching the snow fall outside.
On days like this everything is wrong. Except – a therapist called Maeve came in to ask about some files she’d left in my office. She’s fairly pretty with, however, startlingly vivid eyes. As she was talking i felt my misery thaw a little. She has an instinct for kindness and i think stayed a little longer, feeling something of my dejection.
i became aware of her scent. Not perfume this, wholly natural – like peaches. i almost remarked, “you smell of peaches,” but i had the sense to just enjoy it. On a day like this, the scent of peaches can be a miracle.
