Hearing a sound in the early morning, I scan the room to find her sitting there staring at me. My migraine is gone, and the crows have stopped cawing, but that stench. It needs to go away, before I hurl onto the covers.
Whenever, I have caught a scent of her lately, it is so rancid that it smells ten thousand times worse than a dumpster full of rotten seafood. I should know, because one time I did a stint at a local lobster manufacturing facility in Maine for a few months, while waiting for her to show her precious face around. Eventually, she did and then I pounced on her like a cat playing with his mouse.
The only problem at that time was there were too many people around to get hurt. I ended up having to give up my pursuit of “her” before my coworkers found out. Then of course, it was too late to find her anymore.