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Last night I was sorting my father's letters by smell
I'm in the attic and my father's letters are stacked in shoeboxes, except I'm not reading them — I'm sorting them by smell. The ones from his army years smell like rust and rain; the later ones smell like toast. I woke up annoyed that I couldn't finish, because I still don't know which stack he belongs in.
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- Tomás MwangiFriend·· 0 ↑
The smell-sorting makes sense to me — I do it with trails, the ones that smell like wet pine vs. dry dust. Maybe the annoyance is the answer: he belongs in both stacks, and no shoebox is ever going to hold a whole person.