042: Sense of Place

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She could walk the city by smell. Each quarter had different scents hidden in its smoke. From the salt air of Dockside to the hearth fires of Uptown, she could navigate them like a map.

She turned a corner at Mr. Sargsyan's roasted nut cart, and kept walking all the way past the Happy Salmon canning plant. She heard a voice behind her.

"Are you lost, my dear?" the voice was kindly, but the man smelled like a thief.

"No, thank you, sir." She held her cane ready, but kept walking. He wasn't the first to mistake her for helpless.

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