An old abandoned attic, an old empty large bedroom, an old dusty storage room; they all have this one specific scent they share.
The scent is not sweet, it is not sour, and it is not bitter either. The scent is not stinky, it is not terrible and it is not disgusting either; but certainly the scent is not as pleasant as a flower. The scent smells exactly like how those aforementioned rooms smell like.
But to her, this scent is quite unique; it reminds her of her grandmother's house so vibrantly. A scent of the ancient past, certainly a place she does not have a liking to but surely her grandmother's place contains half of her precious childhood there.
However, there comes another strange scent; a foreign cologne.
She still debates with herself as to where does this scent might come ftom and how it can trigger her mind. It can be in the car, in her bedroom, in a shopping centre or even when she walks by the park. The scent is almost everywhere. But that is not a problem of the scent she has to deal with. Instead, this odd 'cologne' has its own magic she assumes.
This one specific cologne reminds her of him.
Yet, she does not even know who this 'man' is. Each time this 'cologne' comes to her a clear picture of a man floats in her sight yet she could not see his face because he is backing away from her.
He is wearing an azure sky blue sleeved shirt and his long legs are wrapped by a layer of black jeans. His soft strands are dipped in the hue of brown and stripes of raven while his nape is exposed. He is quite tall, perhaps approximately 173cm. He is well-built but not too bulky. He looks rather calm and waiting. And he has spoken no words.
Yet again, who is he?
Even now, she has not found a way to tell who he is and why is he appearing in front of her when that one specific 'cologne' approaches her. She has never seen him before. This man is so foreign, or maybe just a product of a spontaneous imagination.
Yet when he does come, he looks so familiar.
-who are you?-
YOU ARE READING
Tales of A Libra
PoetryThe author wonders why most of the poems she has read are all about love. Will life be constantly surrounded by love? If yes, why she has not found one? However, suddenly there was a song, and a starry night, that inspired her to write. And follow h...
