A soft odor lured John from his sleep. It teased his nose, wafting momentarily-near before dissipating moments later. It was an earthy perfume; composed of sweet top notes, a green middle note, and a foul base note. He inhaled the scent with a few deep breaths before opening his eyes and getting on with his morning.
He checked the clock before hopping into the shower; 6:30. He had plenty of time, so after he dried off and combed his hair, he spent a few extra minutes picking out the right scent for today. On Tuesdays, John normally went for Mont Blanc's Presence; He enjoyed the approving smiles he got from Sandra at the Coffee Spot on Church and Warren after she caught a whiff of the cologne's heavy musk; but he wasn't going to see her today.
He had made plans to meet Brittany from work, and he'd noted a couple weeks earlier that -- on tuesdays in particular -- she didn't talk to him as often as she usually did; However, she did talk to him a lot on thursdays, when he wore Effusion's Iceberg. He was sure she enjoyed it for the same reasons he did-- the crisp minty high note and the watery-calone middle note; So, John undid the spray cap and tipped a bit of the cologne on a scentless tissue from the box he kept ontop of his cologne cabinet. He carefully dabbed the infused-tissue on each wrist three times and lightly swiped it across the sides of his neck.
His natural odor thus ensconced, John swiftly donned his lucky jeans and his favorite t-shirt-and-button-up combo, and headed for the kitchen. As he left his room, the enticing perfume overwhelmed him. He couldn't distinguish the various fruity high notes tiptoeing through the room, they were much to evasive; but the broad, woody-floral scent that supported them lent itself readily to his nose; unfortunately, so too did the putrid base note.
It permeated the air like a dense fog, commanding attention from John's olfactory nerve. It was quite indescribable; a perfume unto itself, it was an abomination of acidity, acridity, and something rancid. It was pungent enough as to be unignorable, and clearly identifiable, and yet, it bled well enough to allow even the lightest scents to seep through.
John had become accustomed to the smell over the years, though it had greatly troubled him in high school. It followed him everywhere; it was particularly strong in malls and supermarkets. He didn't know what it was, most people he had asked about it had no idea what he was talking about and asked him to describe it. The closest, most satisfactory way (which was not satisfactory in any respect) to describe the smell he could come up with was, "like something got infected, and someone poured a mixture of month old soup and roses over it";Succinctly said, a composition of rotten organic matter.
John stopped asking people after his junior-year in high school, after word got out about his weird fascination with this odd smell. It's not that they were wrong, he was,indeed, greatly fascinated by this vaguely alluring scent that comprised the base of almost any smell; but there was nothing to be gained discussing it.
As he walked into the kitchen, he opened up the first cupboard past the fridge, removing his favorite cup -- a wide-brimmed clay mug an ex-girlfriend had made for him-- from the neatly-ordered array of dishes, and filled it up with water, kept cool in a filtered-jug in the fridge. He downed the cup before pouring himself another and putting the jug back in the fridge. He grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit he kept on the corner of the counter across from the fridge and moved to sit on his couch in the living room.
John turned on the TV and took a bit of his apple. The sweet, juicy taste filled his mouth and the foul odor filled his nose as the television made its tell-tale sound of life and a loud voice filled the relative morning silence; "...D.C. by the middle of next week; And, by the way, the Wizards open the season in New York against the Knick, october 30th. Reporting live from the MCI Center, Audrey Barnes, FOX 5 news." Above the FOX 5 logo on the bottom right of the screen, the time was noted as 7:04 at 64 degrees fahrenheit; it seemed like it was going to be a nice day.
John finished his apple as he watched the news and around 7:15, he got up to throw his apple core away and put his cup in the sink. He washed his hands and dried them before heading back into his bathroom to brush his teeth. He was feeling a bit anxious and self-conscious, with the rotten smell still lingered in a relatively large amount after he brushed his teeth, so he rinsed his mouth out with some mouthwash and gave his cologne a light reapplication. His ego secured, he headed back out into his living-kitchen, grabbed his keys and his wallet from their resting place near the fruit bowl, and paused for a moment to watch the commercial for the new movie, Zoolander. When the commercial was over, he turned off his TV and walked out the door, locking it behind him.
Warren Street was always pretty busy this time of the morning--Hell, most of New York is pretty busy in the morning -- but John wasn't prepared for the overwhelming smell that assaulted him as he left his apartment building. The rotten smell was over whelming. The wind was blowing Northwest that day, or at least, had been predicted to blow Northwest; It's not like you can tell in a city with so many large buildings, so John guessed that they must be doing some kind of sewer work nearby, probably about a block or so over. He had been near an open man-hole a couple of months ago and it was, by far, the most concentrated source of the odd-scent he had ever come across.
He thought about going around the block and checking out the source of the smell. It wasn't often he got a chance to really smell the odor in a concentrated form. Maybe he could even squeeze in a trip to the Coffee Spot; He still had an hour before he had to meet Brittany at the World Trade Center.