Tag Archives: the sense of smell

We sat. The Styrofoam cooler was there with Pabst Blue Ribbon tallboys. It was like drinking canned tap water. I stretched my legs and a fly buzzed between us.  “Ugh, a fly,” she said, waving it away. “I hate the smell of flies.” “The smell of flies?” “Yeah.” “Flies don’t smell.” “Hell if they don’t.Continue reading “The Smell of Flies”