His life was finally better.
His job was fine, his home was fine,
Even his car and his looks were fine.
And his looks were one little detail he always had issues with.
Most important of all,
His love life was great.
He had finally found the girl.
She was awesome, sexy and sweet.
She had the patience that he always lacked,
And he, for the first time in his life,
Was completely happy and in love.
So much so, that he even once in a while,
In private asked to himself, how was he so lucky to have found her?
This was too good,
It was too perfect,
But it was true,
(or so, he thought).
Maybe he was only not used to be happy.
Maybe he was so used to sadness,
To emptiness, that this felt foreign.
And it felt so foreign.
Sometimes when he was living his happy life,
A little sweet smell came to him.
Sometimes when he asked himself if this could be true,
The sweet smell became even stronger.
It was not that kind of happy-sweet.
Not that sweet that reminds you of chocolate and candy.
It was that kind of sweet that makes you feel weird,
That makes you feel like something is wrong,
Maybe like the sweet smell of something rotten.
When he felt this sweet smell,
Sometimes he kept with this feeling,
He concentrated on it,
Until his head ached
And his mind asked him to stop.
Some other times
He just focused in something else and
He came back to his happy life
And the sweet smell dissapeared.
He was now earning good money,
More than he realized he could earn.
Had a beautiful house in a beatiful street,
And lived better than he thought he could live.
So, when the sweet smell came once in a while,
he convinced himself it was better just to ignore it,
to not think of it.
But one day the curiosity just became too strong
And after spending a perfect day with his loved partner,
Of eating in bed, making love,
Reading and watching tv,
(a perfect day for the two of them).
He went to the bathroom to wash his hands
And he found the smell,
Or the smell found him.
It was the sweet-funny smell,
The sweet smell with the far stinge of something rotten,
Like a distant smell of an orange in the trash.
It was that kind of sweet smell.
So, he decided to chase that smell,
he sat down in the toilet, closed his eyes
and followed that smell into his mind.
He focused and concentrated so hard
that his headache was almost not bearable,
but he didnt stop and kept going.
Closed eyes, focusing in the smell,
he kept going.
He felt like if doors closed inside his mind
and blockades, and things in his way,
trying to stop him going forward,
and stop him following the smell.
"Stop! Dont follow it!
Go back! This is not the way!
There is nothing here!"
A far voice said in the back of his mind.
"Stop!"
"Stop! Please Stop!"
More voices came, trying to stop him.
Then, his wife knocked the bathroom door.
"Honey, are you ok?" and then:
"Come back, I miss you!" and then:
"Stop! Dont go there!"
His wife's voice, asking him to stop too.
But it was too late,
He was too far in,
And see, he was just too curious.
For a second everything became quiet
And he finally felt like landing,
like coming down from a dream.
He was lying down
But his eyes were still shot.
And there was the smell again,
But this time, stronger than ever.
He finally opened his eyes,
He was laying down in an alley,
next to a dumpster,
He was surrounded by trash.
His clothes were torn,
He was dirty, his fingertips full of mud.
His heart and his soul felt broken.
It took him a moment to realize what was happening.
When he inhaled "pillow", the new drug that everyone was using,
His dreams felt more vivid, longer, more real, and could last as long as he wanted.
Felt like if a whole life could happen in a dream.
He was not really happy, he was not really in love,
it was just a dream full of his demons, his desires, his regrets
and powered by a drug.
Sadly, he was now back to his reality,
He was back in the real life,
And even worst, the only thing he had to eat,
His oranges, had gone rotten.
The End.
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