Anatomy of Disquiet I

The paranoia of Anosmia. I've had a touch of anosmia these past several months, well I think I've actually cycled through seasons at least once by now. I missed the precious smells of autumn and spring, when scents are most exciting, most luminous, those of death, decay, when they coincide and compete with those of birth, rebirth, and then sudden death, and sluggish rotting, which is really the essence of summer's stench.