He smelt it
as she passed by him while jogging. That lemony, fresh smell that came out of
her hair as she was running. The same smell that came out of her lingerie
drawer, the one contained in the shampoo and lotion bottles in her bathroom
cabinet. Ah! How he loved going through her things, touching what she had
touched, lying down on the sheets she had slept on, inhaling the same air she
had breathed in.
And now her jogging was coming to an end.
Soon, she would be upstairs, taking her clothes off, checking herself in the
mirror, right before taking a shower. And today was special. He was in for a
treat. She had forgotten to take the blinds down. He got so excited at the idea
that he didn't think to check the road before crossing. He really should have,
though. Because, then, he would have seen the truck coming straight at him.
And, now, he wouldn't be lying lifeless on the street. And he wouldn't have
missed her graceful movements as she was taking her clothes off.
At least
he still had her smell. The lemony, fresh smell in the last breath he ever took.