Thursday, November 05, 2009

The Streak - 53

Something awful dawned on Evan. He grabbed the nearest thing – his cocktail napkin – and held it to his nose.

"What the fuck are you doing?" asked Kyle.

"I'm trying to see if I can smell anything. I can't fucking smell anything."

"Napkins don't have a smell."

"They're supposed to have a papery smell. Everything has a smell," Evan said, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. "Jesus fuck, I can't smell a thing."

"Calm down. Smell the celery."

Kyle handed Evan the pale green wand from his glass, dripping Bloody Mary on his knee. Evan pressed the leafy end to his face.

"Motherfucker. I got nothin'."

"Celery is a mild vegetable. Or is it a root?"

"I oughta be able to smell somethin'."

"It's a legume or something. A member of the deadly nightshade family."

"Deadly what the fuck ever," Evan said as he snorted along the stalk's fibrous spine. "My olfactory is gone."

"Relax. It'll pass."

"I can't even smell your offensive cologne," Evan said with growing agitation.

"Gimme back my garnish."

They sat mostly in silence as they finished their drinks, each lost in his own universe of dread.

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