Dating : Old Oil, Tobacco Smoke, and Large Grubby hands.

There’s a garage hidden away on a corner, a side lane that I walk past on my way home from the bus stop. When I walk past, sometimes I get a waft of old settled oil, musty smoke, and stale cups of tea. When I smell that smell, I turn to my right and look at the old bricks in the wall. They look and smell old. I look through the small crack in those bricks. I can only see random lines, but I always look when I smell that smell. I look through the crack in the hope one day I’ll see inside the garage. See some man in a blue boiler suit with dirty hands, hammering and molding something new.

Old oil, tobacco smoke, dirty strong hands, and sandy hair.

When I smell that smell, it’s like you just walked by me and ruffled my hair.

No matter what chaos went on in the living room of that house, the laughter, arguments, and tears. At the end of our visit, I’d walk up to the door. The green wooden door that I can still feel underneath my fingertips, look through the small glass squares, and push open the door with a click. The small rounded latch that always amused me.

No matter what went on in that living room, I could walk through that door and there would be my constant. A small tv playing football. You sitting in your green wooden chair covered with a bin liner. A pipe and tobacco staining your fingertips and the air around us. Your trusted pal at your feet. The smell of oil, tobacco smoke, and dog in the air.

The only smell that truly reminds me of home.

I’d chirp my goodbyes and kiss your cheek. Your rough cheek, your strong gentle hands and dirty blonde hair. “bye, darling.’

I took those moments for granted as a child. Not even realizing the impact they would have on my life now.

Since you died, I’ve never stepped through the green wooden door with square glass windows again. Because it won’t smell of home, I won’t feel your rough cheek.

I spent my childhood saying goodbye to you. I now spend my adulthood wishing I could say it one more time.

To smell the oil and the tobacco.

To feel that rough skin and those large grubby hands.

-written 8th of May 2020 @ 00:24
ARTEMIS INKS.