November Memory

English Leather came in its own little wooden box. It looked kind of like what you would see in a cedar chest. When you took the lid off the box, you could smell the English Leather cologne even if you hadn't opened the lid and broken the seal.

That is what I smelled as I lay in bed, drifting, almost asleep. I'm not sure where the smell came from. I know I haven't owned any English Leather in probably 45 years. But, there it was. And for just a few seconds, the cold November memory kept into my consciousness.

There was the smell of the English Leather, and the wood, and all the other un-named odors of Jagger's Drug. I knew it had been raining recently, and without even opening my eyes, I could see the grayish linoleum on the floor. Someone had attempted to mop the floor, and there were still faintly muddy swirls left
from their effort.

I knew I would have to walk the 2 1/2 blocks home through a cold gray mist. I wouldn't be able to see the river for the fog. And when I went up the porch steps, I knew I would see the light of the fireplace. When I stepped into the house, it would be overheated and I would smell the leftovers being heated up in the kitchen.