"Guess?" she asked, cupping her palms over something I couldn't see but could distinctly smell. Now, I don't know the word for it but I suppose there is one to describe the feeling you have when something's at the tip of your tongue. "Again?" I asked, this time taking a deeper, concentrated inhale.
I've always considered my olfactory sense far superior to that of the rest of mankind's, something like that of the guy in that perfume movie, and I often felt like a dog about it. As a child I remember having 4 or 5 distinct smells from my mother's handkerchiefs depending on what mood she was in when she last used it. It was something I considered at par with my eyesight, sometimes better. Today however, it wasn't letting me in that easily. I held my breath for a few seconds, shutting off every other smell and then "one last try" I said inhaling deeply.
At once I started to see it, like i'd seen it years ago or sometime that I couldn't be sure of but I'd seen it. "It's your grandfather right?" I said opening my eyes slowly. A brief pause followed "er.. yes, my granduncle actually, but how did you know?" she said, " He died years before any of us was born. You haven't even met him."
"I have" I replied, "I have.."
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