The route of my walk to and from home (for the time being) passes by a printing business. Before, I have only glimpse the inner operations through a window, but today when I passed by on my way home from lunch, the garage door entrance was open. A distinctive scent wafted out through the opening, and for some reason, my mind started coming up with a description for the scent. Here it is:
the metalic tang of ink mingling with the pungent bleach scent of new paper
Perhaps some latent English major talent has finally decided to surface, and it took six years away from the Mathematics textbooks for it to bubble up? Or maybe I’ve been listening to A Prairie Home Companion too much.
