My most favorite smell in the world is
napalm in the morning.
the blood of the innocent spilled in front of me as it drips from my hand axe
not paul sieka
yours.
the gunflint trail
my son!
ink. wait, no, bread. inky bread.
your neck.
those little translucent pink erasers
fear
grapefruit
the hops aroma while boiling the wort.
crisp fall air
WD-40.
my grandparents basement
napalm in the morning.
bacon
