Paperwhite Abstract

A scent leading to a memory.

Like an obedient dog, I follow.

To a fall, and a trailer, far out in the country.

The sweetness of the paperwhite narcissus subsides, and the acrid smell of burning leaves explains the smoky air.

In a claustrophobic room, a pile of kittens suckles their mother.

I pick the one with tiger stripes.

A mischievous little thing.

You never know what the kitten will become.

More importantly, you never know what’s on the mind of a cat.

The fragrance fades.

The memory recedes.

I will revisit it another time.

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