So for writing class, we "visited" different countries around the world. Someone also chose a word that was a feeling that we had to write about using our senses with what was in front of us that was "from" that country. This one was Russia and pickled tomatoes (?) to smell.
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Noun: a feeling or state of intense excitement or happiness.
That smell; it was a smell from my childhood that I no longer could smell. The last time I came across this oddly combined smell was three years ago at my aunt's house. While everyone thought it was a good or okay smell that came wit the food, I absolutely hated it.
Now there are some smells that I can't stand to be around, and the smell of pickled tomatoes was one of those smells. It reeked horribly of pickles with only a hint of tomatoes which I couldn't wrap my head around. Why she insisted on making it, I had no idea other than to annoy me since I was the only one that didn't like it. The odor was so putrid I crinkled my noise in disgust and immediately turned away trying to escape it. That was never enough though because I always stunk of it afterwards.
But smelling this again filled me with such a feeling that I couldn't find the words to describe it. The only way I could smell this was if I was dead, and that's what made me happy.
I was finally here with my grandma again. And I was about to kick some old lady ass.
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A Short Story Collection #Wattys2018
Short Story***NO LONGER RECEIVING NEW UPDATES; DISCONTINUED*** I'm in a writing class, and we do writing exercises where we write a short story in about fifteen minutes or less. I've decided to put together the short stories I've done on Wattpad. I've also r...
