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And Now. For something different. Blame my therapist for this one.
>There's a certain smell in the air sometimes.
>Just a hint, a soft whiff, you walk by it and never even notice it until one day you do.
>I'm standing in line, five people deep, apparently this place is popular.
>My mouth is a mix of cotton and saliva, I can smell the meat being roasted.
>Ironically, it's a damned Vulpix running the grill, apparently heat control is a big reason why this place is so popular.
>That and well, Pokemon at work apparently.
>I half expected something else, I dunno, charmeleon? Skeledirge? I'm mulling that thought over as I find myself second from the counter and then I smell it.
>It's little things that trigger you sometimes.
>I'm on a high enough dose my brain tingles when I pop a dose, and so far few things have gotten through.
>You will never forget that smell.
>It burrows into you, becomes all you can think about.
>I feel the flames licking around me, fat and gristle sizzling...
>The smell is everywhere, and on everything.
>I step upto the counter and make my order, getting a half wave from the Vulpix working the grill.
>Whats on the grill is what I'm seeing in my mind, and I manage a wave, and attempt a grin as my world wobbles.
>Five minutes later I'm normal again, the world's not going to go upside down on me and I've managed to get myself under control.
>It's fine. I'm fine. How are you? Yeah, Dave from stormtrooper engineering's working on a reactor down here....
>My number comes up and I'm already almsot hyperventilating but I can keep it together as I grab my bag, drink, carkeys and scramble to the car.
>All I can smell is meat burning and hear the crackle-sizzle of fire and fat.
>My apartment door opens, shuts and I drop everything on the counter
>and as I sit on the couch I think I've gotten myself under control enough to not look like a coke fiend, or twitchy methaddict.
