"you smell like rain," an agency nurse i worked with last night told me as soon she came to the unit. she filled in for one of the regulars who had to rush her unemployed husband to an emergency room in jersey. rumor has it he was binge drinking again. that parasite.
"that a good thing?," i asked. sensing i may have been piqued, she burbled, "yes, yes, that's a very good thing. fresh." she groped for words. "tingly fresh."
later in the shift, she told me the guy long immobile in a fancy rotating bed in room xxx would soon die. a rival gang member shot him five times in his derriere. "i have a nose for this," she said. "oh you're like a priest, an exorcist, who could smell out the possessed from a queue of pious communion takers." she giggled at my lame analogy.
growing up, we had a neighbor, a crack fisherman, who was renowned for his knack to smell out schools of fish. even on a stormy night, he would just breathe in the essence of the sea from the prow of his boat and then he would tell his crew where to cast the nets.
after endorsement, i took a call from the strange man. while on the phone, the agency nurse tapped me on my shoulder and whispered it was fun working with me. "you are such a loving person," she said. "what?" i was taken aback. she said, "never mind, you know it." then she left.
on the bus stop, i was with a girl cooing to somebody on her phone. she smelled of waves and something which could only be the essence of love. and i thought, i may have a nose for things, too. but later on the bus, i realized, any old fool can smell love.
