As a boy of seven with few interests I spent many days alone looking out the window. I saw boys my age running and jumping but I didn’t want to join them. I never cared for other children and did my best to stay away from them. The only time I got close to kids my age was at school which I hated. When the school bell rang ending the day I was the first one out the door.
My father died of cancer and my mother and I shared a small apartment. She seldom spoke, and there were times when I thought she had lost her voice, my mother had few interests, so she spent most of her time looking in the mirror and spraying her self with perfume. There were dozens of bottles of perfume stocked on her bedroom floor, when she was gone I loved to spray myself with her perfume. They all smelled so wonderful. I looked forward to the day when I would have my own place stocked with many fragrances. When she left the apartment I quickly ran into her room to sniff her perfumes. My mother’s perfumes became my best friend and they filled all my needs.
I am now an adult and have a well paying job as a chemist in a large company that manufactures perfumes. My job consists of sniffing perfumes and creating new fragrances. There have been over a thousand fragrances that I have personally created, and my company has made millions because of my talents. My fellow employees call me: “The Nose” because I am always busy sniffing hundreds of bottles of perfume each day.
I enjoy my job and will never retire, because my working conditions are ideal and I am doing what I do best—-sniff perfume.
The scent of perfume has become so ingrained in the pores of my body that it can’t be removed. People sitting next to me in public transportation quickly change their seats. A bus driver has asked me to leave the bus, he claimed my odor was: “Killing Him”. I was forced to give up my apartment when the owner said the tenants were complaining about the sweet smell that was coming from my place.
I now own a house that is in a secluded area of the state. There is no one around to complain about foul odors. My home is packed with bottles that contain over five thousand different scents. Each bottle is labeled with a number; with my eyes closed I can sniff a bottle and tell you what that number is. I no longer have to accept the abuse I received while using public transportation. A chauffeured limousine picks me up and transports me from and to my job
My mother knew what she was doing when she continually sprayed her self with various perfumes. She loved me and didn’t know any other way to show her feelings. She knew I was observing her and enjoying the scents. Those wonderful scents my mother exposed me to, propelled me into becoming the world’s foremost creator of quality perfumes and a happy man.