I ‘ll just blurt it down before We lose my neurological. We smell.
You probably know very well what this means, although during my situation, just so we’re clear, we smell love onion soup. I will step through the bath, skin gleaming and taut and red and shining, the hot gusts of steam nevertheless fogging the mirror — and scent.
It began of course — like countless physical wrestlings that show to be lifelong — around puberty, around 12.