No. 3 in a series of short things I wrote in J-school
The smell of Dr. Vagyi’s office hit when the bells on the top of the door jingled. The acrid, too-clean, ammonia-esque scent went straight past any nasal barricades or filter systems to my brain. It made me instantly sick to my stomach, if I wasn’t before I arrived there.
Sadly, I was accident prone and there a lot… usually for stitches. I would come to learn this smell is a living thing, capable of modifying itself to dentist offices, hospitals and nursing homes.
Tomorrow: the upstairs neighbour.