"In the spring of 1988, I returned to New Orleans, and as soon as I smelled the air, I knew I was home. It was rich, almost sweet, like the scent of jasmine and roses around our old courtyard. I walked the streets, savoring that long lost perfume." — Anne Rice
2 comments:
smell is the mos dangerous of senses: leads directly to the past
hmmm...how beautiful, although I have never been to New Orleans but your post takes me there now
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