Jessica
This (very rough) draft is in response to yesterday’s prompt. I am running about a day behind, which is reasonable for me.
Vanilla
At fifteen, I read that boys loved
the smell of vanilla. It reminded them of home,
so I stole extract from our kitchen
and used it as perfume. I smelled like
cookies all day: sweet, warm
and wholesome. I remember the stain
the extract left on my wrist – a brown
smear I could lick hours later
and still detect its sweetness and the sting
of alcohol. I wanted to smell
safe and familiar. Harmless. Even today,
I buy bottles of vanilla perfumes
and lotions and layer them on:
disguising my true scent.
