Podcasts about scents

Iron Man in the Sheets, Old man in the streets. I Don't Like Being Stabbed By Figurineeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees! Potato Adjacent. Yokel Kryptonite! 20 Year Old Smell. Sounds Like A Skill Issue. Teslas Run on Fartgas. Sending Brian the Stiffy board. 1900-CRY-ABOUT-IT. Less Fred, Better Game. Traffic and weather on the ones: at 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, and 19. I love a good Cuban. L2P Noob!! Cry harder for 3 bucks a minute. Y'ever Lose Your Pass Key with Tom and more on this episode of The Morning Stream. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Iron Man in the Sheets, Old man in the streets. I Don't Like Being Stabbed By Figurineeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees! Potato Adjacent. Yokel Kryptonite! 20 Year Old Smell. Sounds Like A Skill Issue. Teslas Run on Fartgas. Sending Brian the Stiffy board. 1900-CRY-ABOUT-IT. Less Fred, Better Game. Traffic and weather on the ones: at 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, and 19. I love a good Cuban. L2P Noob!! Cry harder for 3 bucks a minute. Y'ever Lose Your Pass Key with Tom and more on this episode of The Morning Stream. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Find out more about Endeavor: ⁠⁠⁠https://pakistan.endeavor.org⁠⁠In this episode of Thought Behind Things, we're joined by Saad Saeed, the Founder & CEO of Scents N Stories, Pakistan's leading fragrance brand with over 40 outlets, 300+ employees, and one of the top 5 players in the country's perfume market.From starting with men's grooming products to building a nationwide perfume empire, Saad shares the story of how Scents N Stories grew from a small e-commerce experiment into Pakistan's most recognizable fragrance brand.We explore:Moving from beard grooming to online perfume salesBuilding 40+ outlets across Pakistan using e-commerce dataWhy Pakistan's perfume market is more advanced than Indonesia & BangladeshLocal manufacturing vs import, and how they keep costs lowWhy luxury perfumes cost 30x more than theirsSocials:TBT's Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/thoughtbehindthings/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TBT's TikTok: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.tiktok.com/@tbtbymuzamil⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TBT's Facebook: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.facebook.com/thoughtbehindthings⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TBT Clips: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@tbtpodcastclips⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Muzamil's Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/muzamilhasan/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Muzamil's LinkedIn: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.linkedin.com/in/muzamilhasan/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Saad's LinkedIn: ⁠https://www.linkedin.com/in/msaadafridi/Special thanks to Kickstart for providing us with the studio space.You can find out more about them at: ⁠⁠⁠https://kickstart.pk/⁠⁠⁠Credits:Executive Producer: Syed Muzamil Hasan ZaidiAssociate Producer: Saad ShehryarPublisher: Talha ShaikhEditor: Jawad Sajid

Autumn continues apace and it's such a solid season for candles! This week, Selena chats with her hometown pal and family friend Amy Schaubert Brown (@purplepolepushups on Insta) and it's a blast! Amy called in from her favorite place and it's a Two Wick Minimum first!  The ladies talk honeydew melon, beach scents, luxury, Voluspa, candle-making parties, and the legendary FIVE WICK candle from Costco. Please subscribe, rate, and review, candleheads! (music: bensound.com) 

Cabin Cousins: Part 6 Saying Goodbye; for now. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. Chapter Twenty. On the drive home, I felt good, like really good. I felt like things were actually going to start changing for the better. Reveling in this feeling, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision. I stopped my car in a random parking lot and pulled out my phone. One of the guys that I used to work with, Carl, liked to go to this little bar in Superior to hang out with friends and have a few drinks. There was a whole group of guys from work that would go regularly, but Carl was the only one who never stopped asking. For one reason or another, I never took him up on it, and I haven't seen any of them since I stopped being able to go to work. He answered after a few rings. "Hi, it's Charles, from work." "Charles? Hey buddy! How are you doing?" He sounded happy to hear from me. "Oh, I've been hanging in there. How's the store since I left?" At the time of the accident, I was the yard manager at the same store I had worked at since I moved to Duluth. It didn't pay a lot of money, but it was enough to get by, and I liked the job. I still felt bad about how I left. As the years went on and my depression spiraled downwards, it had become too hard to mask. My job performance was terrible, and people began to ask questions I didn't want to face the answers to. One day I scheduled myself to take all my vacation days, and then with that in the system, I put in my two weeks' notice. I never went back. "They made me assistant store manager if you'll believe that," Carl said. "Still a lot of the same faces around here. All the young kids come and go. You know how it is." "Yeah." I chuckled. In a store like that, you could count on about half of the employees to be lifers. They'd never leave. The other half seemed to be a completely different mix of people every couple of months. "So, what's up?" Carl asked. I could hear the store's advertising jingle blaring over the loudspeakers in the background. "Do you and the guys still go to that bar in Superior?" There it was. I said it. Now if he says yes, I'll have to ask if I can go, and then I'll have to go. "Yeah! But it's usually just me and Matt. Brian got married, and his wife has him on a short leash. Joe goes to AA. The other guys, just kinda stopped going for one reason or another. Tonight is the night we usually go." "Mind if I come with?" I asked. "Of course, man! We're going to leave here at about six." "Cool, I'll see you there." "Looking forward to it. It'll be good to see you again." And now the awkwardness of ending a phone call. I've heard that it's a Midwestern thing, but everyone seems to do it better than I do. "Okay, bye." "Bye." I went home, set out some clean clothes, and got in the shower. Sometimes I forget how good it feels to be clean. But then, I knew exactly why it was often too hard to motivate myself to get into the shower. The shower brought memories of Melissa and the possibility of pain. I stood still, letting the near-scalding water cascade over me. The fruity scent of the same brand of body wash Melissa had during our first shower together was strong, and I remembered. I closed my eyes and started my breathing exercise with a deep slow inhale. Melissa's hands scrubbed my lower back and slid down to squeeze my ass. Breathe out, the pain and hurt waft away like steam in the shower. My fingers follow the lines of her muscles and up her inner thigh, she looks at me with serene contentment. Breathe in. She turns, arches her back, and sighs as I enter her from behind. Breathe out, the pain is gone, and there is only joy. She moans as my soapy hands cup her firm tits, holding her tight against me as we make love. Breathe in. I gasp and hold my breath as we both climax. Breathe out. I catch my breath and look down, my hand was still grasping my quickly softening manhood, and the oozing result of my orgasm was slowly washed into the drain. I finished cleaning up, turned the water off, and stepped out of the shower. I looked at myself in the mirror as I toweled dry. It had been quite a while since I had exercised, or gone to the gym, but I still had a good amount of muscle on me. Granted, a bit more flab than I liked, especially on my belly, but overall I still liked the way I looked. Melissa liked the way I looked too. I patted my belly, and there was a slight jiggle. I really should work out again, I thought. When was the last time I went for a run? I couldn't remember. My eyes strayed from my body to my face. I was still slightly pink from the hot water. I studied the slight age lines beginning to appear around my eyes and noticed that I seemed to have a larger forehead than I used to. When did I start losing my hair? I put my hands on the edge of the sink and leaned close to the mirror. It's a strange thing, looking yourself in the eyes. Despite how good I felt at the moment, all I could see was the pain deep inside. I knew it hadn't always been there, and obviously, I knew when it started. What bothered me was, I couldn't remember what it was like to not have this pain. I could remember every little detail about Melissa, her face, her body, the conversations we had, the things we did together, everything. But if I focus on just me... I can remember being a skinny awkward teenager falling in love and beginning a perfect life, then this, an aging man being crushed by the weight of a tragedy. Every memory between, of what it was to be me, was just gone. Lost to the gray. At the same time, I knew that this person staring back at me in the mirror wasn't me. Once, I was happy. Once I was me, whoever that was. Would I ever get me back, or did I just have to come to grips with the fact that I was now a completely different person? In heavy contemplation, I got dressed. I put on a faded Iron Maiden concert tee, a token from the time Melissa and I had driven to Sioux Falls, South Dakota to see them perform, and some blue jeans that seemed tighter around the waist than I remembered. I checked my bank balance and determined that If I was going to have drinks at the bar with Carl, I had better eat at home beforehand. I had a cup of ramen noodles, and cut slices off of a brick of cheddar cheese, as I wasted time watching random crap on YouTube. Finally, it was five thirty and time to go. Well really, I didn't need to hurry, as it was only a five-minute drive across the bridge to Superior, but there was no way I was going to be late. I parked behind the bar and didn't see any vehicles I recognized. I listened to the radio for a little while, then at ten to six, I got out of the car. The hard part is done. I'm here. I walked in and scanned the place for Carl. I know he had said he was leaving work at six, but I didn't want to miss him by mistake if he was early for some reason. Not seeing him or anyone else I knew, I took a seat at the end of the bar. The place wasn't very busy at all, with maybe a dozen people spread out throughout the whole place. A red-haired waitress came and took my order for a Grainbelt beer, and I watched her go to the cooler to get the bottle. She was cute, if a little thick around the middle, and when she handed me the beer, she flashed me the smile of experienced waitresses everywhere. The kind of smile that says, "I'll be sweet, and yes, maybe even flirt with you a little, but this is my job and you better not take it as more than a professional courtesy". I respected that. Good bartenders were hard to come by, and this one seemed proficient so far. I sipped my beer, and surreptitiously watched the other patrons. There was the same general mix of people you see in bars like this on a Tuesday evening. A few older couples, quietly enjoying dinner and a glass of wine, a fifty-year-old high school prom queen and her steroid-pumped boyfriend, slamming cheap beer, faces wind burned from riding a Harley all day, a table of college frat boy types laughing too loudly at offensive jokes, you know the kind of place. I faced the bar again, and in the mirror, I could see that one person was sitting alone at the table right behind me. She was facing away from me and seemed engrossed in something on her phone. She was wearing a maroon sweatshirt and had bushy dark brown hair that immediately reminded me of a young Hermione Granger. I watched her in the mirror, not being a creep, just out of curiosity and that I had nothing else to do while I waited for Carl. She never turned or sat up straight, just stayed on her phone, occasionally typing furiously. After a while, I looked at the time on my phone. It was twenty after six, Carl should have been here already. I ordered another beer from Cassie, the bartender, and gave him ten more minutes. I called Carl, and it took four or five rings for him to pick up. "Hey dude," Carl said right away. "I am so sorry. I have a big issue I've got to manage here." I could hear people talking loudly in the background and the beep of a forklift. "Hey," I said. "What's up?" "One of the kids knocked over a shelving unit in the garden center, and they all collapsed like dominoes. It's a big fucking mess." There was a scuffing noise as he held his phone aside and yelled at someone. "Don't bother saving that stuff, it's all junk now. Scan it, then throw it in the dumpster!" His voice became clear again. "I don't remember being this stupid when I was that age, do you?" "No, not really. So, are you going to be late or..." I asked, starting to feel a little dumb for getting my hopes up for a fun evening with old friends. "Sorry, man, this is going to be an all-nighter." "Oh, okay," I said, feeling like I just got punched in the gut. "Take a rain check for next week? The first round is on me." "Yeah, that's okay. Next week it is." I couldn't believe it. I got myself so excited to do normal people things with normal people, and this happened. I don't know why I bothered. "Alright man, gotta go." Before Carl ended the call, I could hear him start to yell. "Careful! If you knock that over too, I'm gonna" As I stared at my phone, not knowing what I should think or do, I heard a voice to my right. It was the woman with the brown hair. "You get stood up too?" I glanced at her. She was standing at the bar a few spots down from me, waving her empty glass at the bartender. "Huh? Yeah." "Sorry for eavesdropping. So what was her excuse?" In the corner of my eye, I could see the waitress return with a full glass. The girl took a drink right away. It was something creamy, Bailey's maybe. "Problems at work." I didn't mention that the 'her' was a 'him'. As secure enough in my sexuality as I was, straight guys just didn't say things that could give a woman mixed signals. "Typical." She took another long pull off her drink. "This is the third date in a row that has left me sitting. I take the time to get ready and then sit here waiting. I've got homework I could be doing." She sighed. "I don't know why I bothered." "Right." Her last words had struck a chord with my thoughts, and I turned to face her. Our eyes met, and the world stopped. We stared at each other, each of us with furrowing brows. My heart began to race, and I felt like I just got a shot of adrenaline. Slowly, she set down her drink, and I set down my phone, but our eyes remained locked. Eventually, she whispered. "I know you..." My throat was dry, and I struggled to get enough air to respond. "I don't think we've met..." She was pretty, and younger than I had expected. There was something strikingly familiar about her, but I knew I had never met this person before, and probably hadn't ever seen her. Her maroon sweatshirt had the big yellow UMD (University of Minnesota, Duluth) logo on it. There was something in her eyes, her icy blue eyes, that told me that I knew this person. "Who are you?" She whispered. The confusion on her face gave way to a look of fear. "Charles," I said woodenly, trying to make some sense of what was happening. This wasn't like the times you see someone in a crowd that looks like someone you know. I knew this person, have always known this person, and yet, nothing about her was familiar. "What is going on?" She asked, glancing at the bartender who was eyeing both of us in turn with raised eyebrows. "You're real? You're really real?" Her look of fear gave way to panic. "I've got to get out of here. This can't be happening." She slowly backed away from me, then turned and fled towards the door. I scrambled to put some cash on the bar for my beer, then followed after her. When I got outside, she was standing near a car with her head in her hands. She looked up at my approach. "Don't come any closer." She warned me. "What's going on?" I asked. "How do you know me? How do I know you?" "You know who I am?" She asked, hand on her car door, ready to flee. "When I saw you, I felt like I've known you my entire life, but I've never seen you before." I shook my head, more confused than ever in my forty-two years. "Well, I know you, Charles Larson." "How do you know my last name?" I asked, taken aback. I was pretty sure I hadn't said it at all earlier. "If you're really you, then I know everything about you." Her fear was transforming into anger, and she was almost shouting now. "How?" "Because I dream about you every night! My first memories are dreams about you! I close my eyes, and I see your face! I see your life! Every day, every night!" She was holding her head again and had started pacing side to side next to her car. "Oh my God. All these years, all the therapy, all the drugs to get you out of my head, and I find you sitting in a dive bar. This can't be real." My car was parked next to hers, and she watched me wearily as I slowly walked over and sat on the hood. "If you're really Charles Larson, tell me about yourself." She was looking at me like she was seeing a ghost. "I grew up in Minnetonka..." I was confused to the point of being numb, so I just started talking. I told her about my family, where I went to school, everything up to just before I fell in love with Melissa. Her face was pale, but she had stopped pacing and was just staring at me. "What was her name?" I looked at her sharply, surprised by the question. "Your second cousin, the one you married." Shocked, I replied. "Melissa." She took a tentative step towards me. "The two of you lived in a tiny apartment off of Grand Ave." She stepped closer. "You lived there together for fifteen years until..." She was right next to me now, and she picked up my right hand, turning it over to see the backside. She traced a finger down the scar that ran lengthwise behind my index finger. "Someone at your work dropped a piece of metal gutter, and the end sliced your hand open. It bled and bled, and you had to go get it stitched up." "How do you know these things?" I asked with something I could only describe as awe. "Because I saw it happen. I was there, in my dreams." "I feel that we are connected somehow, but, I don't even know who you are." She shifted her hands and grasped mine in a handshake. She looked at me with a shy smile. "I'm Kate Winters, and I've been waiting to meet you my whole life." Chapter Twenty-one. "You're older than I thought you would be." Kate was eyeing me from across the table. We had gone back into the bar and had taken a booth near the back. The frat boys were gone, and there was no one else nearby. "How old do you think I should be?" I asked, head still spinning. "When I was growing up, every dream was different. The time wasn't the same, the days weren't one-for-one. You were getting older faster than I was. For the last couple of years though, I've had the same dream. It's the same scene every night." She looked at me with empathy, expecting that I wasn't going to like what she was saying. "You were thirty-three, and it was nine years ago." A wave of non-specific dread washed over me. "What scene, What dream are you having over and over?" I already knew what she was going to say, and I didn't want to hear it. Kate closed her eyes. "We are in your truck, we had just been at the movie theater. You were telling me how you never liked Matt Damon, but in this movie, he was pretty good. Then,” "Stop," I said, probably a little too forcibly. "I'm sorry." Her eyes were glistening with tears. We sat in silence for a long time, each wrestling with our thoughts. Finally, I asked. "You said I was speaking to you?" She sniffed and nodded. "When the two of you were apart, it was kind of a third-person view, like watching a movie. But whenever you were with her, I saw you through her eyes. I felt what she felt, I thought what she thought. I think,” She looked at me apprehensively. "When the dreams started, it was the summer she figured out that she loved you. I was five and didn't really understand what I was seeing. I started using bigger words, and acting like I was thirteen because you two were thirteen." My thoughts swirled like a hurricane around that night nine years ago. There was the crash, and my truck crumpled up like a beer can. I was dazed, and there was glass in my eyes. I struggled to reach Melissa. The door had crumpled in and crushed her into the seat, into the tight space between what had been the dashboard and the back of the cab. Her eyes opened as I touched her cheek. She tried to speak, but no noise came out. Her mouth kept moving until suddenly she went still. Her heart stopped, and the spark of life left her eyes. My love, my life, was gone. Tears were streaming down my face, but somehow I had the composure to speak. "If you thought what she thought, did she blame me?" One thing that I had thought I had come to a resolution on, was the thought that the accident was my fault, that; had I not been looking at her at that moment, I might have been able to avoid the other car. Kate was crying too. "Of course not. You know what she was trying to say?" She reached across the table and held my hands tight in hers. "She was saying "I love you" over and over. She knew she was dying, and her only thought was that you would be alone." Still holding Kate's hands, I buried my face into my arm and cried hard, shuddering with every sob. I don't know how long I cried. At some point, I heard the waitress come by, and Kate whispered "We're okay." I felt Kate start running a hand through my hair, massaging my head. Exactly how Melissa used to. It felt good, but it also felt wrong. It wasn't Melissa's hand, It was Kate's. She was some random college girl I had never met, and I was plenty old enough to be her father. At the same time though, some part of me, deep down, was screaming that this was Melissa. I raised my head from my arm and looked at Kate. I felt no apprehension or shame in meeting her eyes, eyes that were so much like Melissa's. I studied them intently. They weren't just similar, they were identical. The patterns of blue were the same, and there was even that tiny green speck in the iris of her right eye. No one but me had ever noticed it. As insane as it sounds, I swear that I could feel Melissa's soul staring back at me through Kate's eyes. "So, what now?" I asked. "Maybe we should go somewhere more private and figure this out," Kate replied, her eyes moving to the people walking into the bar. "I still live in the same place." I couldn't believe that I had just said that. Did I just ask this girl to come home with me? Yes. She may be half my age, but there was something supernatural to the way I was drawn to her. She was not Melissa, I knew that, but in some intangible way, she very much was. Kate led the way, and I followed her back to my apartment. For some inexplicable reason, I thought of the day Melissa sat next to me on the rocks, and tearfully explained her past. The words I had spoken to her came into my mind as clearly as I had just said them. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Is there such a thing as reincarnation? But no, Kate was in her early twenties, and Melissa died only nine years ago. The words continued to echo in my mind, and I realized that at some point it had stopped being my voice that was speaking. It was Melissa's. I bumped the door shut with my back and watched Kate as she surveyed my apartment. It occurred to me that not a lot had changed about the place in the last nine years, since the last time Kate would have seen it in her dreams. The couch was faded and threadbare, but comfortable, and the decorations were pretty much how Melissa had left them. The biggest difference, I noticed with some shame, was the general disorder of the place. Dirty dishes sat in a pile on the counter near the sink, and empty food containers covered the rest of the flat surfaces in the kitchenette. A pile of dirty clothes partially blocked the narrow hallway. Kate turned slowly, taking it all in. She stopped, facing me. "It looks exactly how I remember." I studied her face. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. She pointed at a picture on the wall beside the door. "I remember when that was taken. We, You went to a big concert in Wisconsin..." I could see at her collar, that she was wearing a tee shirt under her sweatshirt. "Take off your sweatshirt." I should have realized the creepy way in which that could be taken, but I wasn't thinking like that. I wanted to see her, to see if my eyes could help solve the mystery that had so thoroughly confused my heart and mind. A small part of me was surprised ,as Kate complied without hesitation. When she pulled the sweatshirt off, the bottom of her tee shirt was pulled up enough for me to get a glimpse of her flat belly. Her clothes were tight-fitting, and my eyes roamed her body. She was the same height as Melissa, had the same overall shape to her frame, and seemed to be in very good shape. She wasn't as muscular as Melissa had been, but then again, Melissa never had to try as hard as others to build muscle mass. Kate was watching me study her. She didn't look afraid or apprehensive at all. Rather, what came across to me was a sense of absolute trust. Melissa had looked at me like that, like she would put her life in my hands without hesitation, safe in the knowledge that I would never willingly hurt her. Her hair was very different, in color and style, and her skin was pale, like she didn't spend a lot of time outside. I stepped closer and tentatively raised a hand to her face. She didn't flinch or pull away. My hand cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes, pressing her face into my gentle touch. Her features were softened by youth, but the shape of her face, the structure of her bones, was eerily familiar. "You do look like her," I said softly. "Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I see her face looking back at me." I felt her hands on my waist as she stepped close. Our faces were inches apart. "This must be difficult for you," She whispered. "I've lived with this my whole life. I've had time to deal with it." Seemingly of their own accord, my arms wrapped around her in a hug. She pressed herself against me, and I could feel that her heart was beating as rapidly as mine. "Through the years, I began to love being her." My face nestled against her neck, fitting perfectly. I breathed in deep. Her scent, my God, it was her scent! "I began to love you," She whispered into my ear. "I love you the way she loved you." My thoughts were muddled; like I had been drinking all day and her words were hypnotizing. The rational part of my mind, dazzled as it was; still held to the fact that this was not Melissa. The rest of me wanted her to be Melissa, needed her to be. "I'm so alone." My words fell out of my mouth like a sob. "You don't have to be alone," She said soothingly. "You deserve to be loved." I brought my head up and looked into her eyes, Melissa's eyes. Why had she used those specific words, those words that had floated into my mind not ten minutes ago? They were my words, and it seemed as though Melissa was speaking them. "Do I?" I asked. "Everyone deserves to be loved, but you especially." I thought of the stranger I saw when I looked in the mirror. "You haven't seen me since the accident. I'm not the same person I was before. I don't know who I am, but it's not the Charles you knew." She cupped my face in her hands. Her eyes seemed to penetrate my very soul, reading the truth that had been obscured from me for so long. "I see you, Charles. You are kind and gentle, caring and considerate, fiercely loyal and honorable. You are truthful and funny, wise and brave. Most of all, you are loving. You would selflessly give the last of yourself if the one you loved needed it." The way Kate was looking at me, the love and knowing in her eyes, made something click in my mind. Bubbling up from the depths, came feelings I thought were gone forever. I remembered the way my heart fluttered when Melissa smiled at me, even after fifteen years of marriage. I remembered how it felt to fully give myself to her, and how my greatest pleasure was seeing the pleasure I gave to her. I remembered the sense of unity, the self and the other made whole. I remembered love, pure and bright, untainted by the weight of the world. Melissa and I had given ourselves to each other and became something greater, one being in all ways, body, heart, mind, and soul. That is who I was, who I am, and who I will forever be. Now standing here with this woman in my arms, I felt that connection again. I felt the bond we had forged, stronger than the foundations of the Earth, stronger than the very fabric of space and time. Though I hadn't seen it for years, it had not dissolved, had not forsaken me. What were a few years compared to that kind of power? "Are you my Melissa?" A faint sense of doubt passed through her eyes. "I don't know. Yes? No? Neither?" She looked away from my eyes, confusion, and memory clouding her face. "Have you ever read about schizophrenics? My mother thought I was one because when I started writing in diaries, I didn't have just one. I had three, one for me, one for Melissa, and one for you. I wrote down everything, all your conversations, and all your emotions. It was mostly just you at this point, with a few precious dreams of your weekends at the cabin with Melissa. Mom brought me to more doctors than I can remember, and they all said that I wasn't schizophrenic, as I didn't have trouble being myself. Apart from my dreams, I was a normal, healthy little girl. They read my journals, determined that I was suffering from an advanced form of multiple personality disorder, and medicated me accordingly. They were stumped though, how a little girl could write with such detail and realism." She looked down and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. I watched how her fingers moved and the posture of her body. She moved like Melissa. "The drugs they gave me didn't do anything but make me feel like shit all the time. I didn't know where my dreams were coming from, but I had to believe that nothing was wrong with me because they felt so right. I enjoyed them and saw them as a gift or a blessing. As strange as it may seem, you were my best friend, and I went to sleep happy every night." She stopped fidgeting and looked at me. "When I was thirteen, I had a dream about that most special weekend at the cabin. It was several dreams actually. I experienced every single moment. I felt the bond Melissa made with you, and not just while I was dreaming. The following days, I buzzed with giddy excitement and cried from the sheer joy of it. It was then that I knew without a shred of doubt, that I wasn't ill." She said this last word with derision. "Nothing that felt that right and pure could be sickness. I stopped taking the medication that day. My waking mind cleared, and I knew joy like I hadn't imagined possible." She sighed. "I never knew for sure if what I experienced in my dreams was happening to real people, or if it was all just for me alone, and I didn't want to find out." She placed my hand on her chest and I could feel her heart pounding. "What I do know, is that as time went on and I grew older, I became more like Melissa. Her personality and insecurities, likes and dislikes, her thoughts and dreams, all merged with my own. When I was old enough to start dating, I went out with a lot of guys. It never worked out, and rarely even got close to physical intimacy, because none of them were you." Her chest was heaving as her heart beat even faster. "I couldn't find love, because I was already in love. I don't know if I am Melissa. I wasn't born as her, so maybe I'm not. But in every way that truly matters, I think that I am her." I read her eyes with the ease that I had been able to read Melissa's. Her love for me was evident, as was her passion and desire. No one but Melissa had ever looked at me the way she was now. Like Melissa's had, Kate's eyes also held insecurity, self-consciousness, and hurt. Kate said that she had dreamed about the accident for years now. Seeing it, feeling it play out over and over. The pain of my recollection of it was pushed aside by an immense surge of empathy and compassion. I only had to live through it once. I couldn't imagine having it waiting for me every night, to see and feel it in perfect clarity, untarnished by the fog of memory. My hand slid from her heart, and she shuddered involuntarily as it settled gently on the side of her neck, just below her jawline. At that moment, I didn't see Kate. I saw the girl I had fallen hopelessly in love with so many years ago, and the woman I had married. I saw my warrior queen, fierce and confident, but at the same time so gentle and insecure. I saw her soul, eternally bound to mine. I saw Melissa's inexhaustible sexual desire for me, roaring hot as a blast furnace, as mine did for her. I tilted her face up and kissed her. She moaned softly, as her lips opened and our tongues met. The kissing was slow and gentle, neither of us wanting to scare the other with our need for intimacy. We both gasped as our mouths parted. She held my face, and her touch, despite my three-day-old stubble, was soft and familiar. "Maybe we shouldn't,” She held a finger to my lips. "I need you and you need me," She whispered. Slowly, she pulled her tee shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Eyes locked with mine, she unzipped her pants, shimmied, and kicked them away when they fell to her ankles. She wore a matching set of light blue panties and a bra. They were pretty, lacy things that accentuated her toned body in a way that screamed sensuality. Without another word, she took my hand in hers and led me to my bed. Later, I watched Kate sleep peacefully in my arms. I reached to the bedside table, and turned out the light, plunging the room into total darkness. I turned back to Kate, who I could see in my mind's eye with crystal clarity. This girl, this woman, who was at the same time achingly familiar and disturbingly foreign, had arrived in my life at the head of a rampaging horde of swirling thoughts. Was it possible that Melissa's soul had somehow made its way to Kate, and led her to me? Amid our passion, as years of longing and desire burst forth from both of us, it felt like I was with Melissa, in every way I could perceive. She moved and kissed like her, smelled and tasted like her. She felt like her, outside and in, and even moaned and cried out like her. I felt like I could give in and accept it. I could acknowledge that this was, in fact, Melissa. We could continue our life together as if the real Melissa had never died. We could be happy, and grow old hand in hand. It was so tempting to lose myself to the idea. My heart ached for it. But something wasn't right. The whole idea seemed unnatural as if it had been manipulated by a higher power whose intent could not be known. This doubt had the feel of truth, jagged and persistent. I knew that I couldn't ignore it, that it would be an eternal festering mote, no matter how sweet a fantasy my life would seem. There was a riddle here that needed to be solved, that demanded to be solved. Above all the confusion and jumbled emotions, there was an overarching feeling that there was an answer just beyond my grasp. I knew that if I could reach it and see just a glimpse of what was beyond, if only for a split second, I would know the truth. I lay there in the dark, willing with every fiber of my being for the universe to give me an answer. The darkness seemed to acquiesce to my silent pleading. I fell through the dark, free of my bed, free of the Earth and reality, into a cozy warm sleeping bag. I spoke to Melissa as night became morning. "You know me better than anyone. Being with you makes me feel complete, in a way I didn't know was possible. I am yours, in all ways, forever." Bright as a star, the light of love flashed in her eyes, bathing all existence with its brilliance. "Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." Sandy blonde hair glowed like golden fire in an autumn sunbeam. "You're real," Melissa said as we embraced outside her apartment. We evaporated into smoke, wafting on a lazy breeze through the pines, and condensed again, lying in Melissa's bed. "Have you been that lonely?" I asked. "For as long as I can remember" Melissa flung herself into my arms. "Am I okay? Charles, this is a dream come true!" A small glass bottle was held out for me to smell. I leaned close and howled as I was sucked into the bottle, down, down, down, into the swirling, bubbling liquid. "We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." My howl became the biting wind, as cold as the water crashing its way through the rocks. The grayness of the sky seemed to leach all color and emotion from the world. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you." The wind rose, howling becoming screeching, becoming screaming, as tires slid, glass broke, and metal crumpled. "I love you. I love you. I love you..." A sudden silence as the flying glass became a sea of stars. "Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time..." The endless expanse of the cosmos loomed, comforting in its infinite possibility. "...and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" I stood alone in a bright sunlit clearing, within a cathedral of Red Pines. Above, a billion, billion suns twinkled in the vast dark. My mother hugged me. "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." Mother became Melissa, whispering my words back to me. "I'll find you in the next and keep loving you." Our sacred pine grove faded as her whisper echoed through infinity. "I'll find you in the next, in the next, in the next..." I floated alone. The self, the other, and the one were all gone. Joy and sadness were words without meaning. Light and dark had no definition. Space had no direction. Time held no sway. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 2 parts, for Literotica.

Cabin Cousins: Part 6 Saying Goodbye; for now. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. Chapter Twenty. On the drive home, I felt good, like really good. I felt like things were actually going to start changing for the better. Reveling in this feeling, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision. I stopped my car in a random parking lot and pulled out my phone. One of the guys that I used to work with, Carl, liked to go to this little bar in Superior to hang out with friends and have a few drinks. There was a whole group of guys from work that would go regularly, but Carl was the only one who never stopped asking. For one reason or another, I never took him up on it, and I haven't seen any of them since I stopped being able to go to work. He answered after a few rings. "Hi, it's Charles, from work." "Charles? Hey buddy! How are you doing?" He sounded happy to hear from me. "Oh, I've been hanging in there. How's the store since I left?" At the time of the accident, I was the yard manager at the same store I had worked at since I moved to Duluth. It didn't pay a lot of money, but it was enough to get by, and I liked the job. I still felt bad about how I left. As the years went on and my depression spiraled downwards, it had become too hard to mask. My job performance was terrible, and people began to ask questions I didn't want to face the answers to. One day I scheduled myself to take all my vacation days, and then with that in the system, I put in my two weeks' notice. I never went back. "They made me assistant store manager if you'll believe that," Carl said. "Still a lot of the same faces around here. All the young kids come and go. You know how it is." "Yeah." I chuckled. In a store like that, you could count on about half of the employees to be lifers. They'd never leave. The other half seemed to be a completely different mix of people every couple of months. "So, what's up?" Carl asked. I could hear the store's advertising jingle blaring over the loudspeakers in the background. "Do you and the guys still go to that bar in Superior?" There it was. I said it. Now if he says yes, I'll have to ask if I can go, and then I'll have to go. "Yeah! But it's usually just me and Matt. Brian got married, and his wife has him on a short leash. Joe goes to AA. The other guys, just kinda stopped going for one reason or another. Tonight is the night we usually go." "Mind if I come with?" I asked. "Of course, man! We're going to leave here at about six." "Cool, I'll see you there." "Looking forward to it. It'll be good to see you again." And now the awkwardness of ending a phone call. I've heard that it's a Midwestern thing, but everyone seems to do it better than I do. "Okay, bye." "Bye." I went home, set out some clean clothes, and got in the shower. Sometimes I forget how good it feels to be clean. But then, I knew exactly why it was often too hard to motivate myself to get into the shower. The shower brought memories of Melissa and the possibility of pain. I stood still, letting the near-scalding water cascade over me. The fruity scent of the same brand of body wash Melissa had during our first shower together was strong, and I remembered. I closed my eyes and started my breathing exercise with a deep slow inhale. Melissa's hands scrubbed my lower back and slid down to squeeze my ass. Breathe out, the pain and hurt waft away like steam in the shower. My fingers follow the lines of her muscles and up her inner thigh, she looks at me with serene contentment. Breathe in. She turns, arches her back, and sighs as I enter her from behind. Breathe out, the pain is gone, and there is only joy. She moans as my soapy hands cup her firm tits, holding her tight against me as we make love. Breathe in. I gasp and hold my breath as we both climax. Breathe out. I catch my breath and look down, my hand was still grasping my quickly softening manhood, and the oozing result of my orgasm was slowly washed into the drain. I finished cleaning up, turned the water off, and stepped out of the shower. I looked at myself in the mirror as I toweled dry. It had been quite a while since I had exercised, or gone to the gym, but I still had a good amount of muscle on me. Granted, a bit more flab than I liked, especially on my belly, but overall I still liked the way I looked. Melissa liked the way I looked too. I patted my belly, and there was a slight jiggle. I really should work out again, I thought. When was the last time I went for a run? I couldn't remember. My eyes strayed from my body to my face. I was still slightly pink from the hot water. I studied the slight age lines beginning to appear around my eyes and noticed that I seemed to have a larger forehead than I used to. When did I start losing my hair? I put my hands on the edge of the sink and leaned close to the mirror. It's a strange thing, looking yourself in the eyes. Despite how good I felt at the moment, all I could see was the pain deep inside. I knew it hadn't always been there, and obviously, I knew when it started. What bothered me was, I couldn't remember what it was like to not have this pain. I could remember every little detail about Melissa, her face, her body, the conversations we had, the things we did together, everything. But if I focus on just me... I can remember being a skinny awkward teenager falling in love and beginning a perfect life, then this, an aging man being crushed by the weight of a tragedy. Every memory between, of what it was to be me, was just gone. Lost to the gray. At the same time, I knew that this person staring back at me in the mirror wasn't me. Once, I was happy. Once I was me, whoever that was. Would I ever get me back, or did I just have to come to grips with the fact that I was now a completely different person? In heavy contemplation, I got dressed. I put on a faded Iron Maiden concert tee, a token from the time Melissa and I had driven to Sioux Falls, South Dakota to see them perform, and some blue jeans that seemed tighter around the waist than I remembered. I checked my bank balance and determined that If I was going to have drinks at the bar with Carl, I had better eat at home beforehand. I had a cup of ramen noodles, and cut slices off of a brick of cheddar cheese, as I wasted time watching random crap on YouTube. Finally, it was five thirty and time to go. Well really, I didn't need to hurry, as it was only a five-minute drive across the bridge to Superior, but there was no way I was going to be late. I parked behind the bar and didn't see any vehicles I recognized. I listened to the radio for a little while, then at ten to six, I got out of the car. The hard part is done. I'm here. I walked in and scanned the place for Carl. I know he had said he was leaving work at six, but I didn't want to miss him by mistake if he was early for some reason. Not seeing him or anyone else I knew, I took a seat at the end of the bar. The place wasn't very busy at all, with maybe a dozen people spread out throughout the whole place. A red-haired waitress came and took my order for a Grainbelt beer, and I watched her go to the cooler to get the bottle. She was cute, if a little thick around the middle, and when she handed me the beer, she flashed me the smile of experienced waitresses everywhere. The kind of smile that says, "I'll be sweet, and yes, maybe even flirt with you a little, but this is my job and you better not take it as more than a professional courtesy". I respected that. Good bartenders were hard to come by, and this one seemed proficient so far. I sipped my beer, and surreptitiously watched the other patrons. There was the same general mix of people you see in bars like this on a Tuesday evening. A few older couples, quietly enjoying dinner and a glass of wine, a fifty-year-old high school prom queen and her steroid-pumped boyfriend, slamming cheap beer, faces wind burned from riding a Harley all day, a table of college frat boy types laughing too loudly at offensive jokes, you know the kind of place. I faced the bar again, and in the mirror, I could see that one person was sitting alone at the table right behind me. She was facing away from me and seemed engrossed in something on her phone. She was wearing a maroon sweatshirt and had bushy dark brown hair that immediately reminded me of a young Hermione Granger. I watched her in the mirror, not being a creep, just out of curiosity and that I had nothing else to do while I waited for Carl. She never turned or sat up straight, just stayed on her phone, occasionally typing furiously. After a while, I looked at the time on my phone. It was twenty after six, Carl should have been here already. I ordered another beer from Cassie, the bartender, and gave him ten more minutes. I called Carl, and it took four or five rings for him to pick up. "Hey dude," Carl said right away. "I am so sorry. I have a big issue I've got to manage here." I could hear people talking loudly in the background and the beep of a forklift. "Hey," I said. "What's up?" "One of the kids knocked over a shelving unit in the garden center, and they all collapsed like dominoes. It's a big fucking mess." There was a scuffing noise as he held his phone aside and yelled at someone. "Don't bother saving that stuff, it's all junk now. Scan it, then throw it in the dumpster!" His voice became clear again. "I don't remember being this stupid when I was that age, do you?" "No, not really. So, are you going to be late or..." I asked, starting to feel a little dumb for getting my hopes up for a fun evening with old friends. "Sorry, man, this is going to be an all-nighter." "Oh, okay," I said, feeling like I just got punched in the gut. "Take a rain check for next week? The first round is on me." "Yeah, that's okay. Next week it is." I couldn't believe it. I got myself so excited to do normal people things with normal people, and this happened. I don't know why I bothered. "Alright man, gotta go." Before Carl ended the call, I could hear him start to yell. "Careful! If you knock that over too, I'm gonna" As I stared at my phone, not knowing what I should think or do, I heard a voice to my right. It was the woman with the brown hair. "You get stood up too?" I glanced at her. She was standing at the bar a few spots down from me, waving her empty glass at the bartender. "Huh? Yeah." "Sorry for eavesdropping. So what was her excuse?" In the corner of my eye, I could see the waitress return with a full glass. The girl took a drink right away. It was something creamy, Bailey's maybe. "Problems at work." I didn't mention that the 'her' was a 'him'. As secure enough in my sexuality as I was, straight guys just didn't say things that could give a woman mixed signals. "Typical." She took another long pull off her drink. "This is the third date in a row that has left me sitting. I take the time to get ready and then sit here waiting. I've got homework I could be doing." She sighed. "I don't know why I bothered." "Right." Her last words had struck a chord with my thoughts, and I turned to face her. Our eyes met, and the world stopped. We stared at each other, each of us with furrowing brows. My heart began to race, and I felt like I just got a shot of adrenaline. Slowly, she set down her drink, and I set down my phone, but our eyes remained locked. Eventually, she whispered. "I know you..." My throat was dry, and I struggled to get enough air to respond. "I don't think we've met..." She was pretty, and younger than I had expected. There was something strikingly familiar about her, but I knew I had never met this person before, and probably hadn't ever seen her. Her maroon sweatshirt had the big yellow UMD (University of Minnesota, Duluth) logo on it. There was something in her eyes, her icy blue eyes, that told me that I knew this person. "Who are you?" She whispered. The confusion on her face gave way to a look of fear. "Charles," I said woodenly, trying to make some sense of what was happening. This wasn't like the times you see someone in a crowd that looks like someone you know. I knew this person, have always known this person, and yet, nothing about her was familiar. "What is going on?" She asked, glancing at the bartender who was eyeing both of us in turn with raised eyebrows. "You're real? You're really real?" Her look of fear gave way to panic. "I've got to get out of here. This can't be happening." She slowly backed away from me, then turned and fled towards the door. I scrambled to put some cash on the bar for my beer, then followed after her. When I got outside, she was standing near a car with her head in her hands. She looked up at my approach. "Don't come any closer." She warned me. "What's going on?" I asked. "How do you know me? How do I know you?" "You know who I am?" She asked, hand on her car door, ready to flee. "When I saw you, I felt like I've known you my entire life, but I've never seen you before." I shook my head, more confused than ever in my forty-two years. "Well, I know you, Charles Larson." "How do you know my last name?" I asked, taken aback. I was pretty sure I hadn't said it at all earlier. "If you're really you, then I know everything about you." Her fear was transforming into anger, and she was almost shouting now. "How?" "Because I dream about you every night! My first memories are dreams about you! I close my eyes, and I see your face! I see your life! Every day, every night!" She was holding her head again and had started pacing side to side next to her car. "Oh my God. All these years, all the therapy, all the drugs to get you out of my head, and I find you sitting in a dive bar. This can't be real." My car was parked next to hers, and she watched me wearily as I slowly walked over and sat on the hood. "If you're really Charles Larson, tell me about yourself." She was looking at me like she was seeing a ghost. "I grew up in Minnetonka..." I was confused to the point of being numb, so I just started talking. I told her about my family, where I went to school, everything up to just before I fell in love with Melissa. Her face was pale, but she had stopped pacing and was just staring at me. "What was her name?" I looked at her sharply, surprised by the question. "Your second cousin, the one you married." Shocked, I replied. "Melissa." She took a tentative step towards me. "The two of you lived in a tiny apartment off of Grand Ave." She stepped closer. "You lived there together for fifteen years until..." She was right next to me now, and she picked up my right hand, turning it over to see the backside. She traced a finger down the scar that ran lengthwise behind my index finger. "Someone at your work dropped a piece of metal gutter, and the end sliced your hand open. It bled and bled, and you had to go get it stitched up." "How do you know these things?" I asked with something I could only describe as awe. "Because I saw it happen. I was there, in my dreams." "I feel that we are connected somehow, but, I don't even know who you are." She shifted her hands and grasped mine in a handshake. She looked at me with a shy smile. "I'm Kate Winters, and I've been waiting to meet you my whole life." Chapter Twenty-one. "You're older than I thought you would be." Kate was eyeing me from across the table. We had gone back into the bar and had taken a booth near the back. The frat boys were gone, and there was no one else nearby. "How old do you think I should be?" I asked, head still spinning. "When I was growing up, every dream was different. The time wasn't the same, the days weren't one-for-one. You were getting older faster than I was. For the last couple of years though, I've had the same dream. It's the same scene every night." She looked at me with empathy, expecting that I wasn't going to like what she was saying. "You were thirty-three, and it was nine years ago." A wave of non-specific dread washed over me. "What scene, What dream are you having over and over?" I already knew what she was going to say, and I didn't want to hear it. Kate closed her eyes. "We are in your truck, we had just been at the movie theater. You were telling me how you never liked Matt Damon, but in this movie, he was pretty good. Then,” "Stop," I said, probably a little too forcibly. "I'm sorry." Her eyes were glistening with tears. We sat in silence for a long time, each wrestling with our thoughts. Finally, I asked. "You said I was speaking to you?" She sniffed and nodded. "When the two of you were apart, it was kind of a third-person view, like watching a movie. But whenever you were with her, I saw you through her eyes. I felt what she felt, I thought what she thought. I think,” She looked at me apprehensively. "When the dreams started, it was the summer she figured out that she loved you. I was five and didn't really understand what I was seeing. I started using bigger words, and acting like I was thirteen because you two were thirteen." My thoughts swirled like a hurricane around that night nine years ago. There was the crash, and my truck crumpled up like a beer can. I was dazed, and there was glass in my eyes. I struggled to reach Melissa. The door had crumpled in and crushed her into the seat, into the tight space between what had been the dashboard and the back of the cab. Her eyes opened as I touched her cheek. She tried to speak, but no noise came out. Her mouth kept moving until suddenly she went still. Her heart stopped, and the spark of life left her eyes. My love, my life, was gone. Tears were streaming down my face, but somehow I had the composure to speak. "If you thought what she thought, did she blame me?" One thing that I had thought I had come to a resolution on, was the thought that the accident was my fault, that; had I not been looking at her at that moment, I might have been able to avoid the other car. Kate was crying too. "Of course not. You know what she was trying to say?" She reached across the table and held my hands tight in hers. "She was saying "I love you" over and over. She knew she was dying, and her only thought was that you would be alone." Still holding Kate's hands, I buried my face into my arm and cried hard, shuddering with every sob. I don't know how long I cried. At some point, I heard the waitress come by, and Kate whispered "We're okay." I felt Kate start running a hand through my hair, massaging my head. Exactly how Melissa used to. It felt good, but it also felt wrong. It wasn't Melissa's hand, It was Kate's. She was some random college girl I had never met, and I was plenty old enough to be her father. At the same time though, some part of me, deep down, was screaming that this was Melissa. I raised my head from my arm and looked at Kate. I felt no apprehension or shame in meeting her eyes, eyes that were so much like Melissa's. I studied them intently. They weren't just similar, they were identical. The patterns of blue were the same, and there was even that tiny green speck in the iris of her right eye. No one but me had ever noticed it. As insane as it sounds, I swear that I could feel Melissa's soul staring back at me through Kate's eyes. "So, what now?" I asked. "Maybe we should go somewhere more private and figure this out," Kate replied, her eyes moving to the people walking into the bar. "I still live in the same place." I couldn't believe that I had just said that. Did I just ask this girl to come home with me? Yes. She may be half my age, but there was something supernatural to the way I was drawn to her. She was not Melissa, I knew that, but in some intangible way, she very much was. Kate led the way, and I followed her back to my apartment. For some inexplicable reason, I thought of the day Melissa sat next to me on the rocks, and tearfully explained her past. The words I had spoken to her came into my mind as clearly as I had just said them. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Is there such a thing as reincarnation? But no, Kate was in her early twenties, and Melissa died only nine years ago. The words continued to echo in my mind, and I realized that at some point it had stopped being my voice that was speaking. It was Melissa's. I bumped the door shut with my back and watched Kate as she surveyed my apartment. It occurred to me that not a lot had changed about the place in the last nine years, since the last time Kate would have seen it in her dreams. The couch was faded and threadbare, but comfortable, and the decorations were pretty much how Melissa had left them. The biggest difference, I noticed with some shame, was the general disorder of the place. Dirty dishes sat in a pile on the counter near the sink, and empty food containers covered the rest of the flat surfaces in the kitchenette. A pile of dirty clothes partially blocked the narrow hallway. Kate turned slowly, taking it all in. She stopped, facing me. "It looks exactly how I remember." I studied her face. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. She pointed at a picture on the wall beside the door. "I remember when that was taken. We, You went to a big concert in Wisconsin..." I could see at her collar, that she was wearing a tee shirt under her sweatshirt. "Take off your sweatshirt." I should have realized the creepy way in which that could be taken, but I wasn't thinking like that. I wanted to see her, to see if my eyes could help solve the mystery that had so thoroughly confused my heart and mind. A small part of me was surprised ,as Kate complied without hesitation. When she pulled the sweatshirt off, the bottom of her tee shirt was pulled up enough for me to get a glimpse of her flat belly. Her clothes were tight-fitting, and my eyes roamed her body. She was the same height as Melissa, had the same overall shape to her frame, and seemed to be in very good shape. She wasn't as muscular as Melissa had been, but then again, Melissa never had to try as hard as others to build muscle mass. Kate was watching me study her. She didn't look afraid or apprehensive at all. Rather, what came across to me was a sense of absolute trust. Melissa had looked at me like that, like she would put her life in my hands without hesitation, safe in the knowledge that I would never willingly hurt her. Her hair was very different, in color and style, and her skin was pale, like she didn't spend a lot of time outside. I stepped closer and tentatively raised a hand to her face. She didn't flinch or pull away. My hand cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes, pressing her face into my gentle touch. Her features were softened by youth, but the shape of her face, the structure of her bones, was eerily familiar. "You do look like her," I said softly. "Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I see her face looking back at me." I felt her hands on my waist as she stepped close. Our faces were inches apart. "This must be difficult for you," She whispered. "I've lived with this my whole life. I've had time to deal with it." Seemingly of their own accord, my arms wrapped around her in a hug. She pressed herself against me, and I could feel that her heart was beating as rapidly as mine. "Through the years, I began to love being her." My face nestled against her neck, fitting perfectly. I breathed in deep. Her scent, my God, it was her scent! "I began to love you," She whispered into my ear. "I love you the way she loved you." My thoughts were muddled; like I had been drinking all day and her words were hypnotizing. The rational part of my mind, dazzled as it was; still held to the fact that this was not Melissa. The rest of me wanted her to be Melissa, needed her to be. "I'm so alone." My words fell out of my mouth like a sob. "You don't have to be alone," She said soothingly. "You deserve to be loved." I brought my head up and looked into her eyes, Melissa's eyes. Why had she used those specific words, those words that had floated into my mind not ten minutes ago? They were my words, and it seemed as though Melissa was speaking them. "Do I?" I asked. "Everyone deserves to be loved, but you especially." I thought of the stranger I saw when I looked in the mirror. "You haven't seen me since the accident. I'm not the same person I was before. I don't know who I am, but it's not the Charles you knew." She cupped my face in her hands. Her eyes seemed to penetrate my very soul, reading the truth that had been obscured from me for so long. "I see you, Charles. You are kind and gentle, caring and considerate, fiercely loyal and honorable. You are truthful and funny, wise and brave. Most of all, you are loving. You would selflessly give the last of yourself if the one you loved needed it." The way Kate was looking at me, the love and knowing in her eyes, made something click in my mind. Bubbling up from the depths, came feelings I thought were gone forever. I remembered the way my heart fluttered when Melissa smiled at me, even after fifteen years of marriage. I remembered how it felt to fully give myself to her, and how my greatest pleasure was seeing the pleasure I gave to her. I remembered the sense of unity, the self and the other made whole. I remembered love, pure and bright, untainted by the weight of the world. Melissa and I had given ourselves to each other and became something greater, one being in all ways, body, heart, mind, and soul. That is who I was, who I am, and who I will forever be. Now standing here with this woman in my arms, I felt that connection again. I felt the bond we had forged, stronger than the foundations of the Earth, stronger than the very fabric of space and time. Though I hadn't seen it for years, it had not dissolved, had not forsaken me. What were a few years compared to that kind of power? "Are you my Melissa?" A faint sense of doubt passed through her eyes. "I don't know. Yes? No? Neither?" She looked away from my eyes, confusion, and memory clouding her face. "Have you ever read about schizophrenics? My mother thought I was one because when I started writing in diaries, I didn't have just one. I had three, one for me, one for Melissa, and one for you. I wrote down everything, all your conversations, and all your emotions. It was mostly just you at this point, with a few precious dreams of your weekends at the cabin with Melissa. Mom brought me to more doctors than I can remember, and they all said that I wasn't schizophrenic, as I didn't have trouble being myself. Apart from my dreams, I was a normal, healthy little girl. They read my journals, determined that I was suffering from an advanced form of multiple personality disorder, and medicated me accordingly. They were stumped though, how a little girl could write with such detail and realism." She looked down and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. I watched how her fingers moved and the posture of her body. She moved like Melissa. "The drugs they gave me didn't do anything but make me feel like shit all the time. I didn't know where my dreams were coming from, but I had to believe that nothing was wrong with me because they felt so right. I enjoyed them and saw them as a gift or a blessing. As strange as it may seem, you were my best friend, and I went to sleep happy every night." She stopped fidgeting and looked at me. "When I was thirteen, I had a dream about that most special weekend at the cabin. It was several dreams actually. I experienced every single moment. I felt the bond Melissa made with you, and not just while I was dreaming. The following days, I buzzed with giddy excitement and cried from the sheer joy of it. It was then that I knew without a shred of doubt, that I wasn't ill." She said this last word with derision. "Nothing that felt that right and pure could be sickness. I stopped taking the medication that day. My waking mind cleared, and I knew joy like I hadn't imagined possible." She sighed. "I never knew for sure if what I experienced in my dreams was happening to real people, or if it was all just for me alone, and I didn't want to find out." She placed my hand on her chest and I could feel her heart pounding. "What I do know, is that as time went on and I grew older, I became more like Melissa. Her personality and insecurities, likes and dislikes, her thoughts and dreams, all merged with my own. When I was old enough to start dating, I went out with a lot of guys. It never worked out, and rarely even got close to physical intimacy, because none of them were you." Her chest was heaving as her heart beat even faster. "I couldn't find love, because I was already in love. I don't know if I am Melissa. I wasn't born as her, so maybe I'm not. But in every way that truly matters, I think that I am her." I read her eyes with the ease that I had been able to read Melissa's. Her love for me was evident, as was her passion and desire. No one but Melissa had ever looked at me the way she was now. Like Melissa's had, Kate's eyes also held insecurity, self-consciousness, and hurt. Kate said that she had dreamed about the accident for years now. Seeing it, feeling it play out over and over. The pain of my recollection of it was pushed aside by an immense surge of empathy and compassion. I only had to live through it once. I couldn't imagine having it waiting for me every night, to see and feel it in perfect clarity, untarnished by the fog of memory. My hand slid from her heart, and she shuddered involuntarily as it settled gently on the side of her neck, just below her jawline. At that moment, I didn't see Kate. I saw the girl I had fallen hopelessly in love with so many years ago, and the woman I had married. I saw my warrior queen, fierce and confident, but at the same time so gentle and insecure. I saw her soul, eternally bound to mine. I saw Melissa's inexhaustible sexual desire for me, roaring hot as a blast furnace, as mine did for her. I tilted her face up and kissed her. She moaned softly, as her lips opened and our tongues met. The kissing was slow and gentle, neither of us wanting to scare the other with our need for intimacy. We both gasped as our mouths parted. She held my face, and her touch, despite my three-day-old stubble, was soft and familiar. "Maybe we shouldn't,” She held a finger to my lips. "I need you and you need me," She whispered. Slowly, she pulled her tee shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Eyes locked with mine, she unzipped her pants, shimmied, and kicked them away when they fell to her ankles. She wore a matching set of light blue panties and a bra. They were pretty, lacy things that accentuated her toned body in a way that screamed sensuality. Without another word, she took my hand in hers and led me to my bed. Later, I watched Kate sleep peacefully in my arms. I reached to the bedside table, and turned out the light, plunging the room into total darkness. I turned back to Kate, who I could see in my mind's eye with crystal clarity. This girl, this woman, who was at the same time achingly familiar and disturbingly foreign, had arrived in my life at the head of a rampaging horde of swirling thoughts. Was it possible that Melissa's soul had somehow made its way to Kate, and led her to me? Amid our passion, as years of longing and desire burst forth from both of us, it felt like I was with Melissa, in every way I could perceive. She moved and kissed like her, smelled and tasted like her. She felt like her, outside and in, and even moaned and cried out like her. I felt like I could give in and accept it. I could acknowledge that this was, in fact, Melissa. We could continue our life together as if the real Melissa had never died. We could be happy, and grow old hand in hand. It was so tempting to lose myself to the idea. My heart ached for it. But something wasn't right. The whole idea seemed unnatural as if it had been manipulated by a higher power whose intent could not be known. This doubt had the feel of truth, jagged and persistent. I knew that I couldn't ignore it, that it would be an eternal festering mote, no matter how sweet a fantasy my life would seem. There was a riddle here that needed to be solved, that demanded to be solved. Above all the confusion and jumbled emotions, there was an overarching feeling that there was an answer just beyond my grasp. I knew that if I could reach it and see just a glimpse of what was beyond, if only for a split second, I would know the truth. I lay there in the dark, willing with every fiber of my being for the universe to give me an answer. The darkness seemed to acquiesce to my silent pleading. I fell through the dark, free of my bed, free of the Earth and reality, into a cozy warm sleeping bag. I spoke to Melissa as night became morning. "You know me better than anyone. Being with you makes me feel complete, in a way I didn't know was possible. I am yours, in all ways, forever." Bright as a star, the light of love flashed in her eyes, bathing all existence with its brilliance. "Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." Sandy blonde hair glowed like golden fire in an autumn sunbeam. "You're real," Melissa said as we embraced outside her apartment. We evaporated into smoke, wafting on a lazy breeze through the pines, and condensed again, lying in Melissa's bed. "Have you been that lonely?" I asked. "For as long as I can remember" Melissa flung herself into my arms. "Am I okay? Charles, this is a dream come true!" A small glass bottle was held out for me to smell. I leaned close and howled as I was sucked into the bottle, down, down, down, into the swirling, bubbling liquid. "We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." My howl became the biting wind, as cold as the water crashing its way through the rocks. The grayness of the sky seemed to leach all color and emotion from the world. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you." The wind rose, howling becoming screeching, becoming screaming, as tires slid, glass broke, and metal crumpled. "I love you. I love you. I love you..." A sudden silence as the flying glass became a sea of stars. "Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time..." The endless expanse of the cosmos loomed, comforting in its infinite possibility. "...and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" I stood alone in a bright sunlit clearing, within a cathedral of Red Pines. Above, a billion, billion suns twinkled in the vast dark. My mother hugged me. "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." Mother became Melissa, whispering my words back to me. "I'll find you in the next and keep loving you." Our sacred pine grove faded as her whisper echoed through infinity. "I'll find you in the next, in the next, in the next..." I floated alone. The self, the other, and the one were all gone. Joy and sadness were words without meaning. Light and dark had no definition. Space had no direction. Time held no sway. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 2 parts, for Literotica.

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

After taking an extra week off, we're energized and back with plenty of perfume reviews, laundry recommendations, tips on wearing natural deodorant in Texas, AI rants, and a lot of white floral talk. All that and some real winners in The Game. Scents Mentioned In This Episode:Flower No 1, Smoke, Rain Wood, and Heliotrope by Perfumer H / Bois Obscur and Baudelaire by Byredo /  Vanilla Powder Extrait by Matiere Premiere / Well Dressed Werewolf, Burning Barbershop, Amber Kiso, Bowmakers, and Mississippi Medicine by DS & Durga / Flaming Creature by Marissa Zappas / Diva (laundry detergent) by Tyler Candle Co / Dark Flowers (candle) by Corpus / Rotano by Maison d'ETTO / Monsieur by Frederic Malle / Muscs Koublai Khan by Serge Lutens / Epona by Papillon Perfumes / Geist by La-Curie / Epices by Miskeo / Tempo by Diptyque / Vanille Antique by Byredo / Ambilux by Marlou / Blood Spider Orchids and Fauna by Régime des Fleurs / L'âme Perdue by Le Galion / La Fille de Berlin and Sarrasins by Serge Lutens / Boutonniere No. 7 by Arquiste / Cobra and The Canary, Telegrama, and Slow Explosions by Imaginary Authors / Gardener's Glove by St. Clair / Psychedelique by Jovoy / Reve D'Ossian and Horizon by Oriza L LegrandThe Game:Carnival of Souls by Marissa Zappas / White Smoke by Perfumer H / Bois Flotte by Chambre52 / The Abandoned Mansion by Imaginary Authors / Un Bel Amour D'été by Parfum d'Empire / Le Regent by Oriza L LegrandFilms and Shows Discussed:Lusty Men (1952) by Nicholas RayNight of the Demon (1957) by Jacques TourneurOver The Garden Wall (2014) by Patrick Hale (00:00) - - Intro (01:00) - - Perfumer H and Byredo Cuir Obscur (07:16) - - Vanilla Powder Extrait in Reverse (13:30) - - Well Dressed Werewolf (23:06) - - Diva and Dark Flowers (30:30) - - Jeff vents a bit about AI (37:58) - - Some Movie Talk (47:17) - - Scents of the Week (01:00:25) - - The Game Please feel free to email us at hello@fragraphilia.com - Send us questions, comments, or recommendations. We can be found on TikTok and Instagram @fragraphilia

In this episode of Adjusting Motherhood, Dr. Alyssa sits down with Lainey Schmidt, founder and scent artist behind The Fleurish Co, to dive into the art and science of creating custom fragrances. Lainey shares her journey as a business owner, the heart behind her clean scent philosophy, and how she turns memories and emotions into signature blends. From building a brand rooted in intention to redefining what “clean” means in the world of fragrance, this episode will leave you inspired to find — or create — a scent that truly feels like you.✨ Tune in for an uplifting conversation about creativity, entrepreneurship, and the power of scent to tell your story. And one sniff the new ANH scent!!

Fluent Fiction - Swedish: From Citrus Scents to Yodeling: Adventures at a Nudist Resort Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/sv/episode/2025-10-11-07-38-20-sv Story Transcript:Sv: Lennart, Siv och Kerstin hade alltid drömt om att åka till Amalfikusten.En: Lennart, Siv, and Kerstin had always dreamed of traveling to the Amalfikusten.Sv: Det var en perfekt plats i världen med sina blå hav och gyllene klippor.En: It was a perfect place in the world with its blue seas and golden cliffs.Sv: De hade rest dit på höstkanten, när turisterna var färre och doften av citrusfabriker låg tung i luften.En: They had traveled there in the autumn, when there were fewer tourists, and the scent of citrus factories hung heavily in the air.Sv: Lennart hade fått uppdraget att boka boendet.En: Lennart had been tasked with booking the accommodation.Sv: Han hade varit nervös, kanske mest för att han ville imponera på Siv.En: He had been nervous, perhaps mostly because he wanted to impress Siv.Sv: Det blev en överraskning när de anlände och upptäckte att han oavsiktligt hade bokat ett nudistresort!En: It was a surprise when they arrived and discovered that he had accidentally booked a nudist resort!Sv: "Vad har du gjort, Lennart?"En: "What have you done, Lennart?"Sv: skrattade Kerstin med sin torra humor.En: laughed Kerstin with her dry humor.Sv: "Detta blir ett spännande äventyr."En: "This will be an exciting adventure."Sv: Siv log ett äventyrslystet leende och sa, "Vi kanske blir närmare naturen än vi tänkt oss."En: Siv smiled an adventure-loving smile and said, "We might get closer to nature than we thought."Sv: Lennart skämdes lite, men Siv verkade inte alls besvärad.En: Lennart was a bit embarrassed, but Siv didn't seem bothered at all.Sv: Det gjorde saker och ting ännu värre för honom, men han bestämde sig för att försöka göra det bästa av situationen och försöka visa sitt mod.En: That made things even worse for him, but he decided to try to make the best of the situation and attempt to show his courage.Sv: Dagarna gick och där de först känt sig obekväma blev det snart till skratt.En: The days went by, and what initially felt uncomfortable soon turned into laughter.Sv: Särskilt då det visade sig att precis samma vecka firades Oktoberfest i en av resortens paviljonger, om än något annorlunda än vad de var vana vid.En: Especially since it turned out that Oktoberfest was being celebrated in one of the resort's pavilions that same week, albeit a bit differently than they were used to.Sv: Med stekt bratwurst och joddlare som anlände iförda sina bästa – eller endast sina skojigaste – hattar.En: With fried bratwurst and yodelers who arrived wearing their best – or just their funniest – hats.Sv: Lennart, fast besluten att vinna över sitt nervvrak, anmälde sig till en joddlingskonkurrens.En: Lennart, determined to overcome his bundle of nerves, signed up for a yodeling competition.Sv: Han hade sett detta som en chans att visa mod och kanske till och med vinna Sivs hjärta.En: He saw this as a chance to show courage and perhaps even win Siv's heart.Sv: När Lennart öppnade munnen för att joddla, blev alla i lokalen fascinerade.En: When Lennart opened his mouth to yodel, everyone in the room was fascinated.Sv: Inte av hans talang, för den var tveksam, men av hans vilja och humor.En: Not by his talent, for it was doubtful, but by his willingness and humor.Sv: Han fumlade sig genom varje ton men mottogs av ett rungande jubel.En: He fumbled through every note but was met with a resounding cheer.Sv: Siv klappade högt och skrattade med ljusa, glittrande ögon.En: Siv clapped loudly and laughed with bright, sparkling eyes.Sv: I slutet av dagen, när solen sjönk ner i det blå havet, började Lennart förstå lärdomen.En: At the end of the day, as the sun sank into the blue sea, Lennart began to understand the lesson.Sv: Det var inte hans misstag som hade spelat roll, utan hans sätt att hantera den.En: It was not his mistake that mattered, but how he handled it.Sv: Siv log mot honom, "Du överraskade mig idag, Lennart.En: Siv smiled at him, "You surprised me today, Lennart.Sv: Du är modigare än du tror."En: You are braver than you think."Sv: Med en nyvunnen självförtroende berättade Lennart för Siv om sina känslor.En: With newfound confidence, Lennart told Siv about his feelings.Sv: Hon uppskattade hans ärlighet och öppenhet, och den gemensamma absurditeten i deras resa hade fört dem närmare.En: She appreciated his honesty and openness, and the shared absurdity of their journey brought them closer together.Sv: När de veck senare reste hem igen, fyllda av minnen av havet, citrus och Oktoberfestival, hade Lennart förstått vikten av spontanitet och hur humor kunde binda människor samman.En: When they traveled home weeks later, filled with memories of the sea, citrus, and the Oktoberfest, Lennart had understood the importance of spontaneity and how humor could bond people together.Sv: En plats som en gång bara var en felaktig bokning, blev till en upplevelse de sent skulle glömma.En: A place that was once just a mistaken booking turned into an experience they would not soon forget. Vocabulary Words:autumn: höstkantenaccommodation: boendetnervous: nervösintentionally: avsiktligtnudist resort: nudistresortembarrassed: skämdesovercome: övervinnabundle of nerves: nervvrakyodeling competition: joddlingskonkurrensresounding cheer: rungande jubelspontaneity: spontanitetbond: bindaadventure: äventyrfascinated: fascineradefumbling: fumladelesson: lärdomenopenness: öppenhetabsurdity: absurditetenmemories: minnenmistake: misstagimpress: imponeraoverwhelm: överraskadededicated: fast beslutendiscovered: upptäcktepavilions: paviljongerexperience: upplevelsescent: doftencitrus factories: citrusfabrikergolden cliffs: gyllene klipporattempt: försöka

In this special Fashion Friday episode of Skin Anarchy, Dr. Ekta Yadav welcomes back fragrance expert Olya Bar for the highly anticipated Fall Fragrance Guide 2025. Together, they explore this season's most sophisticated scent evolutions—where vanilla and oud take on richer, moodier, and more nuanced dimensions.Olya shares how her personal and professional journey has refined her olfactory taste—moving from novelty toward depth and balance. “It's not about losing interest, it's about refinement,” she says, reflecting on how motherhood and her role at Europerfume have shifted her appreciation for scent.Vanilla emerges as the star of the season, but far from the sugary gourmand stereotype. Olya highlights new interpretations—like Vanille Mathonie by Reserve and Afrique, a cinnamon-tinged tropical warmth, and Vanille Poudrée Extrait by Matiere Premiere, a sensual, boozy evolution of the original. Even bolder options like Mancera's Brown Sugar Oud Vanilla blend sweetness with smoky, resinous complexity.The conversation deepens with oud—a timeless yet polarizing note. Olya demystifies its origin, quality variations, and artistry, spotlighting approachable scents like Chabaud's Mysterious Oud and the enduring Montale Dark Aoud. A rising trend? Tropical oud fusions, marrying exotic brightness with earthy warmth.As the fragrance landscape matures, Olya encourages a slower, more intentional approach to scent—treating perfume as a “tasting experience” rather than a trend chase. This fall, she says, is about substance over sugar—fragrances that embody identity, depth, and quiet sophistication.

Scents can boost sales and shape memories, but how do you turn that into a business? Join the Breakfast Show as they speak to Dayyan James (DJ), founder of CocosBotanica, as he shares how he grew from skincare into scent marketing, what it takes to design fragrances that work, and the lessons behind running a dual business model.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this episode, we dive deep into the intricacies of writing Gender Neutral Reader-Insert (GNRI) fanfiction. Recently, Sandra and Kasey spoke with Reader-Insert writers who successfully incorporated culture and diversity into their characters. Now, they flip the script and explore what it means for authors to focus on writing GNRI, a topic that is both personal and nuanced in the realm of fandom. By spotlighting the voices of writers tackling this complex subject, Sandra and Kasey aim to honor their perspectives and experiences. Through a survey of various authors, they gathered diverse responses that provoke thought and discussion around the motivations and challenges involved in creating inclusive fanfiction.Content/Trigger Warning ~ This episode discusses gender identity and related topics, including gender dysphoria. If this subject matter might cause distress, please proceed with caution or skip this one for now.If any LGBTQ+ listeners of the podcast need support or are in crisis, reach out to an organization like The Trevor Project for help.The Episode Doc and GNRI Survey Responses can be accessed here.Links to Fics Discussed:Warm Brown Jacket by samsbladeI Really Wish I Hated You - D.W. - by flawlesslyspellboundKasey's fics: A Tale of Two Minds, Scents of Home, Second Base with Sammy~~~We're taking you for a spin in Baby's backseat.Dean's House Rules - Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole, and the ones in the back enjoy the ride... idling in the Impala.~~~~~TL;DR - If you can't be bothered clicking on all the things in this description, just visit our website: idlingintheimpala.comWe'd love to hear your thoughts. Send us an email (idlingintheimpala@gmail.com)!All the Socials and AO3 and Fiction links: https://linktr.ee/idlingintheimpalapodcastOur Discord #backseat Channel.Interested in being a guest on the podcast? Give us some info about you here so we can connect.Feel inclined to leave us a tip for all this AWESOME content? Visit our Ko-fi page. Monthly supporters will get special behind-the-scenes perks!We've got podcast merch for our fellow idlers. Take a look!~~~~~Charities IITI Supports: Check out the Causes, ‘cause page on our website for the whys:World Central Kitchen and Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF)~~~~~For Those in the US: Educate and Empower Yourself, Find Ways to Take ActionSupport Basic Human Rights - American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU)Prioritize Your Mental Health - National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI)Thrive (Not Just Survive) After Abuse - Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN)  ~~~~~LGBTQ+ CharitiesSwitchboard LGBT UKThe Trevor Project - USA and Global~~~~~Our podcast occasionally incorporates brief excerpts from the CW television show "Supernatural" for transformative commentary and analysis. This use falls under the Fair Use doctrine codified in Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act. The included clips are short, constituting only a minuscule portion of the original work, and illustrate specific points within our critical commentary. Our podcast does not compete with the show's market. This use promotes public discourse and understanding of the work, strengthening its cultural significance.~~~Chapter Timestamps00:00:00 - Intro00:00:48 - What spurred the GNRI discussion00:04:06 - Our Reader Insert Roots00:05:02 - Kasey is Gender Neutral00:08:00 - GNRI research00:09:04 - What is GNRI?00:15:45 - AO3 stats on GNRI00:18:43 - Gendered Language00:20:10 - Gender Dysphoria00:21:52 - Kasey takes the wheel00:23:57 - Gender Identity vs. Gender Expression00:30:21 - Proactive pronoun usage00:36:00 - Nonbinary expectations00:37:41 - People on the journey understand the difficulty00:42:20 - Survey responses from writers01:19:02 - Kasey's thoughts on two GNRI fics01:24:19 - Kasey accidentally wrote GNRI01:31:23 - Outro

Last week, in one of Karen's classes, a student was surprised to learn that some information she had received from ChatGPT was inaccurate. With AI becoming increasingly common in perfume making - from formulations to safety advice - this week, Karen is offering an overview of how AI fits into the world of fragrance, where it can be helpful, where it falls short, and how you can get the most out of this ever-evolving tool. KEY TAKEAWAYS How exactly do models like ChatGPT work? Where do they get their information from, and how do they differ from search engines? Karen explains it all. Any answer you get from ChatGPT sounds 100% correct and authoritative. As Karen explains, not only is there a reason for this, but it's also one of its major flaws. A lot of the big perfume houses have been very vocal recently about incorporating AI into their formulation process. However, as Karen points out, it's not in the same way that you might be using it. However, despite its flaws, AI can be a very useful tool in some areas. Karen lays out some of the ways in which AI can help you. BEST MOMENTS “ChatGPT doesn't evaluate credibility or cross-check sources to see what is accurate.” “It isn't just incorrect, it's wrong with confidence.” “If the AI models have been trained by mistakes on the internet, then you can start to understand where the mistakes are coming from.” VALUABLE RESOURCES Getting Started Guide Artisan Perfumery Mastermind  ABOUT THE HOST Fragrance expert, author, teacher and speaker; Karen Gilbert runs courses in the UK and online which demystify the secretive world of perfumery in a fun and interactive way. Karen has inspired thousands of students to explore their olfactory sense and create their own personalised fragrances. With extensive product development experience in both the commercial perfumery and the organic skincare industry, Karen is able to offer a unique insight into creating natural and mixed media fragrances for fine fragrance, room scents and skincare/bodycare products using commercial perfumery techniques. Karen is also a certified meditation teacher and has a passion for helping people to create daily rituals that integrate scent with other modalities to shift state and increase your sense of wellbeing. CONTACT DETAILS Website Instagram Facebook YouTube Email This Podcast has been brought to you by Disruptive Media. https://disruptivemedia.co.uk/

A god arises and challenges Squad 13 to a puzzling game. But as they take on the tasks laid before them, the party will have to cope with the trials of their pasts. All the while, the question looms: Why is the god here?

Pure Michigan is one of (if not) the most iconic tourism marketing brands in history, completely transcending logo or tagline. Kelly Wolgamott joins us for a fascinating conversation covering the origins of the campaign, its future vision…and its entrance into the fragrance space to allow destination fans and the curious to experience the scents of Pure Michigan. And, insights into how the voice of the brand is being expanded for future generations. Join us.

Well, maybe not these days, but we'll tell you about our faves from the bygone days (2010s) of designer fragrance moments. That, plus we chat about some new department store scents, revisit some newish scents, and wonder what it all means (what else is new?).  We have our

Hey Ohana, This week we've got a really fun episode as we're joined by our friend Sue Passauer and our new friend Lisa DiNotto Glassner where we chat about capturing those Disney scents we all know and love. We chat a little about how Disney utilizes scents and while that was originally intended to be the main topic of the episode, our conversation rather quickly and organically switched lanes to chatting about the amazing ways Lisa has been able to capture those scents for us to all bring home with her ever so popular Core Memory Candle line of candles, waxes, oils, and more. Our chat dives into everything from the famous Smellatizers to how Lisa chooses which scents she captures and everything in between. We can't wait to have her back on to chat about her other endeavor - capturing Disney through photos of our favorite place and her Thousand Circle Images! Be sure to check out all of Core Memories Candles products before the pop up shop closes at the end of the month by visiting Lisa's site at https://thousandcircles.com/collections/core-memory-candles If you're thinking of planning a visit to Disney, be sure to reach out to the official TA of Married to A Disney Addict, Sue Passauer! Sue's affiliated with MEI & Mouse Fan Travel and can help you every step of the way! Thanks for tuning in and as always...See Ya Real Soon! DISCLAIMER: We are not an affiliate of the Walt Disney Company nor do we speak for the brand or the company. Any and all Disney-owned audio, characters, and likenesses are their property and theirs alone.

What was wrong with the smell?

Ever wondered what Jordan and William smell like? No, me neither. But one of the G&Divas has opened Pandora's box – and now we all get to enjoy this new bit of information! The boys also answer your questions on the correct time to eat a Sunday roast and your unusual phrases for naughty words. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Think you can outsmart Victoria in trivia? One listener stepped up for the challenge in today’s You vs. Victoria on The Jubal Show—and things got hilariously off track. From Lady Gaga fans to the world’s most stolen food (yes, it’s real!) and which celebrity might smell the weirdest, this game has it all. Tune in for laughs, surprises, and see if you could’ve beaten Victoria in this trivia showdown! The ultimate trivia showdown from The Jubal Show! Think you’ve got the brains to take down Victoria? Listeners go head-to-head with her in a battle of wits, testing their knowledge on everything from pop culture to random facts. Will you come out on top, or will Victoria destroy you? Play along, laugh out loud, and see if you have what it takes to claim victory! ➡︎ Sign up to battle Victoria - https://thejubalshow.com This is just a tiny piece of The Jubal Show. You can find every podcast we have, including the full show every weekday right here…➡︎ https://thejubalshow.com/podcasts The Jubal Show is everywhere, and also these places: Website ➡︎ https://thejubalshow.com Instagram ➡︎ https://instagram.com/thejubalshow X/Twitter ➡︎ https://twitter.com/thejubalshow Tiktok ➡︎ https://www.tiktok.com/@the.jubal.show Facebook ➡︎ https://facebook.com/thejubalshow YouTube ➡︎ https://www.youtube.com/@JubalFresh Support the show: https://the-jubal-show.beehiiv.com/subscribeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We've been so excited to discuss the newest release from Paraphrase Perfumes, Fruit Thieves, which was totally worth all the customs delays. Thanks to Josh who kindly sent it to us as a gift. We also dip our toes in the water of the ever-present topic of dupes and how they play into the manosphere and Reddit sales. As fun as that seems, most of this episode is heavy on Parfum d'Empire as we talk about a few we've been testing and really enjoying. Plus, our scents of the week and pretty solid round of The Game.Scents Mentioned in this Episode:Fruit Thieves by Paraphrase / Pulp by Byredo / Seminalis by Orto Parisi / Burrow and Sex & Jasmine by Paraphrase /Molecules 01 + Iris by Escentric Molecules / Blue Talisman by Ex Nihilo / 3 Fleurs, Musc Tonkin, Amber Russe, Eau Suave, Mal Aime, Tabac Tabou, Vetiver Bourbon, and Raude by Parfum d'Empire / French Affair by Ex Nihilo / Rosarine by Dusita / Fumerie Turque and Daim Blond by Serge Lutens / Spell 125 by Papillon Perfumery / Oeilleres by Roberto Greco / Oudh Infini by Dusita / Rimbaud by Celine / Reptile, Nightclubbing, and Black Tie by Celine / Musc Ravageur by Frederic Malle / Sellier by Byredo / Tempo by Diptque / Fils de Joie by Serge Lutens / Eau Capitale by Diptyque / Pistil by MiskeoThe Game:Mossy Glen by Villa Erbatium / La Bague d'O by Jouissance / Chambre Secrète by Reservation / Blue Tea by The Merchant of Venice / Rosae Mundi by Profumum Roma / Nº 7 by Rosendo Mateu(00:00) - - Fruit Thieves by Paraphrase (07:06) - - Thoughts on Dupes (16:30) - - Parfum D'Empire (38:03) - - Scents of the Week (52:17) - - The Game Shoutouts:Panda Go Panda by Isao Takahata (1972)Summertime by David Lean (1955)Thank you, Danielle (@perfumeglow_danielle) for the samplesPlease feel free to email us at hello@fragraphilia.com - Send us questions, comments, or recommendations. We can be found on TikTok and Instagram @fragraphilia

Today's episode is all about midlife memories about perfume! Specifically, it's about your perfume past. I've asked three midlife gals from the Women in the Middle Academy to join me in a panel to talk and share stories of how we all discovered and used perfume and other scents throughout the years. Learn more:  https://suzyrosenstein.com/podcast/ep-422-midlife-memories-from-your-perfume-past/

With over 35 years of hunting experience under his belt, Gerard Sauchelli is the owner of Rack Getter Scents...a wild game scent, lure, and attractant company based in his hometown of New Jersey. Visit Rack Getter Scents... ...online: Rack-Getter Scents & Lures ...on Instagram: @rackgetterscents2.0 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - DON'T FORGET: For a 15% discount on SKRE Gear, use code NYC - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Follow the NYC Bowhunting Podcast, Cliff, and Devian on Instagram: NYCBP: @nycbowhuntingpod Cliff: @urbanarcherynyc Devian: @citykidbushcraft  

Shem gets mysterious compliments about his scent but refuses to reveal his cologne, sparking debate in the studio. Roz shares his strict charcuterie board preferences, and the team reacts to a wild story from Anna, whose mom faked her death when she was nine. Plus, Mocha defends his old Hulk Hogan-inspired moustache, Roz dreams up a “Roztaurant,” and Emma Memma joins the show to talk about her final performance at the CNE.

What if the secret to better meetings, more creativity, and deeper team connection wasn't in your calendar or tech—but in your lighting, scent, and the posture of your chair? Get ready to rethink your workspace

Vidcast:  https://www.instagram.com/p/DNd97UEOGKy/Ovulating women produce three organic chemicals that, when vaporized, are pleasing to men and trigger their more favorable opinion of the women emanating them.  This intriguing study from the University of Tokyo's Department of Applied Biological Chemistry and its International Research Center for Neurointelligence.  During the study, 84 scent samples, collected from women during various phases of their menstrual cycles, were presented to 21 men. Each odor was rated for its level of pleasantness, its effect on the rater's mood, and its impact on the rater's impression of women in pictures.The 3 compounds prevalent during ovulation, geranylacetone, tetradecanoic acid, and hexadecenoic acid, were rated as pleasing, tended to relax and de-stress the male raters, and were associated with more positive impressions of the pictured women.Though the researchers stopped short of calling these organic chemicals pheromones, they did label them as pheromone-like.The bottom line: men and women should be aware that natural body scents could be working behind the scenes in a positive or negative way.https://www.news-medical.net/news/20250728/Female-body-odor-variations-can-shape-male-behavior-and-emotions.aspxhttps://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2589004225013483#ovulation #scents #cycle #appearance

Clint Hufft and Wendy Dahl discuss the spiritual significance of incense and essential oils in various traditions. Wendy shares her experiences with essential oils, including using them for aromatherapy and meditation. At the same time, Clint explores the historical and cultural uses of incense in Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, and Native American practices. They delve into specific scents like sandalwood, frankincense, and myrrh, and their symbolic meanings. The conversation also touches on the placebo effect, energetic alignment, and the use of incense for purification and meditative focus. 

The fragrance deep dive continues! In Part 2 with Ethan Archer from Agence De Parfum, we're uncovering the luxury secrets the perfume world doesn't want you to know. What makes a perfume cost £4,800? Why does the same scent smell incredible on your friend but terrible on you? And is there really a "universal" fragrance that works on absolutely everyone? Ethan reveals the most expensive perfume in his collection, the weirdest fragrance notes he's ever encountered (hint: one involves blood), and the shocking science behind why your skin chemistry can make or break a scent. Plus, he attempts the ultimate challenge - matching Kelly with her perfect fragrance based on her personality alone. From the trillion scents your nose can detect to the survival instinct that makes us all love the smell of rain, this episode is packed with fragrance secrets that'll completely change your perfume game! PRODUCTS MENTIONED: Not a Perfume by Juliette Has a Gun $235 Oud Luxe by Roja Dove $4,899 Addictive Arts Jump Up and Kiss Me Ecstatic by Clive Christian $895 BRANDS MENTIONED: Roja Dove Clive Christian Juliette Has a Gun Libertine Parfumerie FOR MORE WHERE THIS CAME FROM: Watch & Subscribe on YouTube – Part 1 of our chat with Ethan drops tonight at 7pm! Catch it here. Follow us on Instagram: @youbeautypodcast Follow us on TikTok: @youbeautypod Join our You Beauty Facebook Group here For our product recommendations, exclusive beauty news, reviews, articles, deals and much more - sign up for our free You Beauty weekly newsletter here Subscribe to Mamamia here GET IN TOUCH: Got a beauty question you want answered? Email us at youbeauty@mamamia.com.au or send us a voice message, and one of our Podcast Producers will come back to you ASAP. You Beauty is a podcast by Mamamia. Listen to more Mamamia podcasts here. Want $10 + a free month of Mamamia? We've got you.We're cooking up something exciting and need your brilliant opinions to help us make even better content.It's just 20 minutes of your time, and you'll get: $10 e-gift card 1 month Mamamia subscription (or gift it to someone if you're already a subscriber) Survey hereT&Cs here CREDITS: Hosts: Kelly McCarren Guest: Ethan Archer, (Perfume Aficionado & National Training Manager at Agency De Parfum) Producer: Sophie Campbell Audio Producer: Tegan Sadler Mamamia's studios are furnished with thanks to Fenton & Fenton. For more head to their website here. Just so you know — some of the product links in these notes are affiliate links, which means we might earn a small commission if you buy through them. It doesn’t cost you anything extra, and it helps support the show. Happy shopping! Mamamia acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Land we have recorded this podcast on, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. We pay our respects to their Elders past and present, and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.Become a Mamamia subscriber: https://www.mamamia.com.au/subscribeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this fun episode of the Horse Industry Podcast, we dive into the sensory world of equestrian life by exploring 11 horse-related scents. Regina challenges Lynn to choose just two favorite smells from a list that includes the comforting aroma of fresh shavings, the earthy scent of groomed arena dirt, and the nostalgic fragrance of freshly cut alfalfa. Discover which scents evoke cherished memories and why some smells are simply irreplaceable in the horse world. Tune in for a delightful journey through the olfactory experiences that define the equestrian lifestyle.

In this episode of Sex Talk with My Mom, we welcome the delightful and quirky Elodie, also known as the "Slimelier," for a fun and informative conversation about the colorful world of slime. The episode kicks off with Elodie sharing their journey into the slime community, discussing the various textures, scents, and the joy that slime brings to both kids and adults. To stay updated on Elodie's slime adventures and explore more of their content, follow them on TikTok and Instagram at @elodieeznuts! Cam is also performing his solo show, Just To Be Close To You, during the Hollywood Fringe Festival. You can catch his dates on IG @camoncam69. Get close with us! Follow Sex Talk With My Mom (@sextalkwithmymom), Cam Poter (@camoncam69), and KarenLee Poter (@karenleepoter) on Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok! #SexTalkWithMyMom #Elodie #Slimelier #PerformersLife #DatingAdventures #SlimeTime #UnconventionalJourney #HollywoodDreams Chapters  0:00 - Intro 0:39 - Elodie's Journey into the Slime World 3:15 - The Different Textures and Scents of Slime 8:45 - Slime Myths Busted 15:20 - Personal Slime Experiences 20:10 - The Therapeutic Benefits of Slime 25:30 - Slime Etiquette and Sharing Please support our show and get discounts on our favorite brands by using our sponsors' links at sneakypod.com! FLESHLIGHT – Our sponsor, FLESHLIGHT, can help you reach new heights with your self-pleasure. FLESHLIGHT is the #1 selling male sex toy in the world. Looking for your next pocket pal? Save 10% on your next fleshlight with Promo Code: SNEAKY at fleshlight.com. ❣️You can view many of our full episodes in video form by going to our YouTube channel. Join our sparkling new Sneaky Freak chatroom on Discord! Just visit: https://discord.gg/jJZqkUw3dV. To gain exclusive access to all our Discord channels, join us at Patreon.com/sextalkwithmymom. If you've enjoyed the show, please consider leaving us a review at RateThisPodcast.com/Mom. Also, it would mean the world if you'd support us through Patreon.com/sextalkwithmymom – a platform where you can get exclusive STWMM bonus episodes and Zoom chats with us! Grab some Sex Talk w/ My Mom swag at sextalkwithmymom.com. Get close with us on socials at: Text us - 310-356-3920 Facebook/Instagram - @SexTalkWithMyMom Twitter - @SexTalkWMyMom Website - www.SexTalkWithMyMom.com Our podcast's music was crafted by the wildly talented Freddy Avis! Check out his work at http://www.freddyavismusic.com/ Sex Talk With My Mom is a proud member of Pleasure Podcasts, a podcast collective revolutionizing the conversation around sex. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In the quiet of the forest, a plan begins to smoulder.While talent may prove reliable, it's far from innocent, and with the air thick and heavy, not everyone is breathing easy. Some find themselves climbing to unexpected heights, though whether from inspiration or inhalation is anyone's guess.In a forest where everything is watching, it pays to move carefully, speak softly, and keep the distractions loud. After all, subtlety is subjective, and when sabotage meets strategy, it can create a spark. Things shift quickly when the lines between brilliance and recklessness begin to go up in smoke.To move forward, they'll need misdirection, momentum, and more than a little luck. Funny, how often the path to clarity begins with a little haze.Natural Six are Harry McEntire, Doug Cockle, Ben Starr, Hollie Bennett, Alex Jordan and Aoife Wilson.Support us on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/naturalsixJoin our Discord! https://discord.gg/HNV56DADnJFollow us on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/naturalsixFollow us on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/natural_sixFollow us on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@natural.sixLove lore? Check out the Fandom: https://natural-six.fandom.comStay up to date: https://www.NaturalSix.net Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

What secrets does someone who works with the world's most exclusive perfume brands and has 76 fragrances in their personal collection actually know that the rest of us don't? In this week's episode, Kelly gets the ultimate fragrance education from Ethan Archer from Agency De Parfum! We're getting mind-blowing facts like why there are fewer professional perfumers than astronauts, the 800-year-old perfume house still making bestsellers, and which 500-year-old fragrance from 1533 is still flying off shelves. Plus, Ethan reveals he's wearing EIGHT sprays of perfume right now, why your nose goes blind to your own scent, and the real reason some people can't smell that they stink. We dive into whether seasonal fragrance switching is marketing or psychology, why dupes are like polyester couture, the truth about fragrance storage and expiration dates, and whether you need one signature scent or an entire fragrance wardrobe. From wedding day fragrance consultations to proper layering techniques, this episode will change how you think about scent forever. There's so much more fragrance wisdom coming in part 2 next week... LINKS TO THE PRODUCTS MENTIONED: Chanel No. 5 $210 Jicky by Guerlain $275 Shalimar by Guerlain $176 Acqua Colonia by Santa Maria Novella (from 1533) $249 Green Irish Tweed by Creed $499 Eladaria by Creed $489 Torino 21 by Xerjoff $359 Guidance by Amouage $599 Aventus by Creed $539 Outlands by Amouage $759 Do Son by Diptyque $191 Amouage Reflection Woman $499 Elizabeth Arden Green Tea Brands mentioned: Santa Maria Novella Creed GUERLAIN The House of Amouage Diptyque Xerjoff Clive Christian Libertine Perfumery FOR MORE WHERE THIS CAME FROM: Watch & Subscribe on YouTube – Part 1 of our chat with Ethan drops tonight at 7pm! Catch it here. Follow us on Instagram: @youbeautypodcast Follow us on TikTok: @youbeautypod Join our You Beauty Facebook Group here For our product recommendations, exclusive beauty news, reviews, articles, deals and much more - sign up for our free You Beauty weekly newsletter here Subscribe to Mamamia here GET IN TOUCH: Got a beauty question you want answered? Email us at youbeauty@mamamia.com.au or send us a voice message, and one of our Podcast Producers will come back to you ASAP. You Beauty is a podcast by Mamamia. Listen to more Mamamia podcasts here. CREDITS: Hosts: Kelly McCarren Guest: Ethan Archer, (Perfume Aficionado & National Training Manager at Agency De Parfum) Producer: Sophie Campbell Audio Producer: Tegan Sadler Mamamia's studios are furnished with thanks to Fenton & Fenton. For more head to their website here. Just so you know — some of the product links in these notes are affiliate links, which means we might earn a small commission if you buy through them. It doesn’t cost you anything extra, and it helps support the show. Happy shopping! Mamamia acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Land we have recorded this podcast on, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. We pay our respects to their Elders past and present, and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.Become a Mamamia subscriber: https://www.mamamia.com.au/subscribeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this episode, Jerry Bradshaw and Cameron Ford discuss: The creation of PSA and evolution of dog sport. How the rigidity in traditional dog sports has led to innovation and creativity. Being open to adaptation not fighting against it. Increasing complexity in training detection.  The responsibility of having an online platform for your dog training.  Training based on experience and on research.    Key Takeaways: PSA exploded in popularity the last decade due to the prevalence of younger trainers and social media.  A lot of traditional dog sport is built around breeding programs and registering your dogs. PSA allows for dogs of any breed and age as long as they can handle the training.  If you're interested in your dogs learning detection, teach your puppies to track and hunt. It is key for police work.  Training detection dogs is about more than odor, no matter what changes have occurred over the years.  Adjusting to what the dog is doing during training when they aren't following your progressions is where the fun and intrigue comes in.  Training is not a race. Do it right from the beginning and it will create a stronger, better dog than if you try and do it all in just a few weeks.    "Unfortunately, a lot of dog trainers get married to doing something because it's the way they've always done and they feel comfortable with it. But I think you have to be smart enough to jettison what's not working or is less efficient." —  Jerry Bradshaw   Contact Cameron: Website: https://www.fordk9.com/  Website: https://stratosk9.com/ K9s Talking Scents: https://www.fordk9.com/podcasts/   YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCbLa_PL0uHeOK5WsSgjR-Mw  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fordk9/    Get Jerry's book Controlled Aggression on Amazon.com   Contact Jerry: Website: controlledaggressionpodcast.com Email: JBradshaw@TarheelCanine.com Tarheel Canine Training:  www.tarheelcanine.com Youtube:  tarheelcanine Twitter: @tarheelcanine Instagram: @tarheelk9 Facebook: TarheelCanineTraining Protection Sports Website: psak9-as.org Patreon:   patreon.com/controlledaggression Slideshare: Tarheel Canine Calendly: https://calendly.com/tarheelcanine  Tarheel Canine Seminars: https://streetreadyk9.com/  Tarheel Canine Student Portal: https://tcstudentportal.com/    Sponsors:  ALM K9 Equipment: almk9equipment.com PSA & American Schutzhund: psak9-as.org Tarheel Canine: tarheelcanine.com The Drive Company: https://thedriveco.com/  The Drive Company Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thedrive.co    Find out more about Hold The Line Conference 2026 at https://htlk9.com/    Train Hard, train smart, be safe.   Show notes by Podcastologist Chelsea Taylor-Sturkie Audio production by Turnkey Podcast Productions. You're the expert. Your podcast will prove it. 

Vidcast:  https://www.instagram.com/p/DMyNEDEJqEt/The diffuser's cover contains five magnets that can detach and create ingestion hazards. If swallowed, these high-powered magnets can attract each other leading to intestinal twisting, blockages, infection, sepsis, and death.About 851,400 of these recalled diffusers were sold in the US, and an additional 1,100 were sold in Canada at Pura.com, Amazon.com, Target.com, and Scheels.com, as well as in-store at Target, Scheels, and other retailers.  All sales occurred from August 2023 through May 2025.Consumers should immediately dispose of the detachable cover, keep the diffuser out of reach of children and pets, and contact Pura Scents at 1-855-394-5292 or by email at replacement@pura.com for a free replacement cover.https://www.cpsc.gov/Recalls/2025/Pura-Scents-Recalls-Detachable-Covers-of-Smart-Home-Fragrance-Diffusers-Due-to-Magnet-Ingestion-Hazard#purascents #diffusers #magnets #ingestion # recall

They buzz around your fruit salad, hover over your barbecue, and seem to think the edge of your pool is their hangout. Every summer, it's the same story - wasps turning your outdoor bliss into a swatting frenzy. But it doesn't have to be this way; there are ways to keep them at bay.  There are gentler, and smarter ways to make them buzz off. Essential oils are a great place to start. Scents like lemongrass, cloves, and lavender are natural wasp deterrents. What about when you're having a barbecue? But aren't we supposed to protect wasps? In under 3 minutes, we answer your questions! To listen to the last episodes, you can click here: Is it dangerous if I get heart palpitations? Is eating fish still good for you? What is Fridgescaping? A Bababam Originals podcast written and realised by Amber Minogue Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

AP's Lisa Dwyer reports on a Pura Scents recall.

The Pirates discuss how to get better sleep and sleep habits/environment.

In today's page of Talmud, Avodah Zarah 35, the sages continue their discussion of laws pertaining to which items Jewish people can consume, if they are manufactured by people who are not Jewish. But the teaching contains a metaphor, comparing a Torah scholar to a container containing a good scent. But what broader application does this metaphor have? Listen and find out. 

In this episode, Beau Martonik talks with Kevin Vistisen from Deer Hunter Podcast and Deer Hunter Synthetics. He elaborates on the science behind synthetic scents, highlighting the effectiveness of targeting deer behavior through formulations that ensure consistency and reliability. Kevin also advocates for the strategic use of these scents to optimize hunting success. This episode is a valuable resource for hunters seeking to enhance their understanding of deer behavior, refine their hunting strategies, and some deer camp talk in between. Topics: 00:00:00 - Introduction  00:04:08 – Company Evolution and New Beginnings 00:10:25 – Understanding the Marathon of Business 00:21:02 – Relocating to the Big Woods 00:30:35 – Using Spartan Forge and the New UAV Imagery 00:43:28 – Using Lidar for E-Scouting 00:48:50 – Finding Success in Hill Country 01:11:35 – Self-Filming Hunting 01:18:14 – Private vs. Public Discussion – 2 Success Stories 01:44:05 – Perspective of an Individual's Goals 01:57:04 – Understanding Synthetic Scents for Scrapes 02:34:22 – Website, Social Media, and More Resources: Instagram:   ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@eastmeetswesthunt⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@beau.martonik⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @deerhunter_synthetics @deerhunter_podcast Facebook:   ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠East Meets West Outdoors⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  Website/Apparel/Deals/Gear: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.eastmeetswesthunt.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ YouTube: Beau Martonik - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQJon93sYfu9HUMKpCMps3w⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Partner Discounts and Affiliate Links: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.eastmeetswesthunt.com/partners⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Amazon Influencer Page ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.amazon.com/shop/beau.martonik⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This month we are focusing on Habit 7: Rest.My goal is to help you build habits peacefully so that you can impact your world powerfully.In the Hello Mornings Daily Podcast, I share a simple tip based on our monthly theme and then I close the podcast with our 3-Minute Morning Routine.THE 3-MINUTE MORNINGGod Time: Pray Psalm 143: 8 (Minute 1)Plan Time: Prayerfully Review Your Calendar  (Minute 2)Move Time: Take 5-10 Deep Breaths (Minute 3)That's it! Adjust as needed and use as your pathway to a growing morning habit!Want to go deeper with our workshops, journals, Bible Studies and accountability ? Join The Hello Mornings Academy, where we help Christian women build habits and reach goals peacefully so they can impact their world powerfully.GOODIES: Click here to download our FREE morning routine goodies.COMMUNITY: Click here to learn more about the Hello Mornings Academy.BOOK: Click here to get the Hello Mornings BookCheering you on,❤️ Kat Lee   

It's tax return season, which means "free money" for beauty products (even though it's definitely not free, but we're choosing to ignore that). This week, Kelly and Leigh are tackling your burning beauty questions while simultaneously questioning whether audits are worth celebrating with Mecca bronzer... they absolutely are! We're diving into the great fragrance debate – should Cassidy ditch her signature scent just because her friends think it's too heavy for summer barbecues? Plus, Jane's turning 40 and wondering if she needs to completely overhaul her makeup routine. Don't miss Leigh's crazy find... stick-on toenails from Kmart and Kelly's hack for side sleepers who want heatless curls without the discomfort. LINKS TO EVERYTHING MENTIONED: SAEM Cover Perfection Tip Concealer $9.07 Rare Beauty Positive Light Under Eye Brightener $45 Revolution Beauty Conceal & Hydrate Concealer $12 Kmart Stick-On Toenails $5 Heatless Curl Tubes $2 FOR MORE WHERE THIS CAME FROM: Watch & Subscribe on Youtube here Follow us on Instagram: @youbeautypodcast Follow us on TikTok: @youbeautypod Join our You Beauty Facebook Group here For our product recommendations, exclusive beauty news, reviews, articles, deals and much more - sign up for our free You Beauty weekly newsletter here Subscribe to Mamamia here GET IN TOUCH: Got a beauty question you want answered? Email us at youbeauty@mamamia.com.au or send us a voice message, and one of our Podcast Producers will come back to you ASAP. You Beauty is a podcast by Mamamia. Listen to more Mamamia podcasts here. CREDITS: Hosts: Leigh Campbell & Kelly McCarren Producer: Mollie Harwood & Sophie Campbell Audio Producer: Tina Matolov Video Producer: Marlena Cacciotti Mamamia's studios are furnished with thanks to Fenton & Fenton. For more head to their website here. Mamamia acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Land we have recorded this podcast on, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. We pay our respects to their Elders past and present, and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.Become a Mamamia subscriber: https://www.mamamia.com.au/subscribeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Send us a textSubscribe and let your nose lead the way. This episode stinks—in the best way possible.In this surprisingly deep dive into all things scent, Katy Reiss and Laura Fawks Lapole explore how your sense of smell works, why it's wildly underappreciated, and what makes certain smells feel amazing (or like a chemical attack).

Achieng Agutu is known as the Confidence Queen, but her magic goes far beyond the bold looks and viral soundbites. She's a model, media personality, and co-host of The Influence on Amazon Prime. Her mission is clear: to challenge beauty standards, uplift everybody, and make confidence contagious.In this episode, Achieng joins Scent World host Brittney Jackson Moseley to talk about scent as self-expression, morning rituals that center joy, and the real journey behind her unapologetic presence. From her Sports Illustrated Swimsuit debut to her platform No Ordinary Noire, Achieng shows us what it means to glow from the inside out.Tune in for:• Her go-to fragrance layering combo• How to build a morning routine you actually look forward to• The beauty mantra passed down from her mother• Achieng's first reaction to the summer's hottest scents• How to feel confident however you look at the beach✨ Scent World is the podcast that explores the beauty and grooming rituals of today's most exciting artists and entertainers. Every other week, they reveal the scents that shaped their lives—and the ones they can't live without.

In the podcast episode featuring Wes Brewer, the owner of Deer Pimp Scents and Lures, listeners are introduced to the innovative products that have made the brand a favorite among hunters. Wes Brewer shares the story behind the brand's catchy name, which originated from his deer farming days when friends humorously dubbed him the "Deer Pimp." This playful moniker eventually became the brand's identity, reflecting its unique approach to creating effective hunting scents and lures. The podcast highlights some of the brand's popular products, such as "Pimp Juice," a doe-in-heat spray, and "Turf War," a dominant buck urine, both designed to attract deer during hunting seasons.Wes Brewer's passion for innovation is evident as he discusses the development of products like "Roid Rage," which combines dominant buck tarsal urine with gel beads for a long-lasting scent. This product is particularly effective for creating mock scrapes that can attract bucks over time. The podcast also touches on the importance of community and customer feedback, with Wes emphasizing how much he values hearing success stories from hunters who have used his products. The episode not only showcases the effectiveness of Deer Pimp's offerings but also provides insight into the dedication and creativity that drive the brand's success. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's tax return season, which means "free money" for beauty products (even though it's definitely not free, but we're choosing to ignore that). This week, Kelly and Leigh are tackling your burning beauty questions while simultaneously questioning whether audits are worth celebrating with Mecca bronzer... they absolutely are! We're diving into the great fragrance debate – should Cassidy ditch her signature scent just because her friends think it's too heavy for summer barbecues? Plus, Jane's turning 40 and wondering if she needs to completely overhaul her makeup routine. Don't miss Leigh's crazy find... stick-on toenails from Kmart and Kelly's hack for side sleepers who want heatless curls without the discomfort. LINKS TO EVERYTHING MENTIONED: SAEM Cover Perfection Tip Concealer $9.07 Rare Beauty Positive Light Under Eye Brightener $45 Revolution Beauty Conceal & Hydrate Concealer $12 Kmart Stick-On Toenails $5 Heatless Curl Tubes $2 FOR MORE WHERE THIS CAME FROM: Watch & Subscribe on Youtube here Follow us on Instagram: @youbeautypodcast Follow us on TikTok: @youbeautypod Join our You Beauty Facebook Group here For our product recommendations, exclusive beauty news, reviews, articles, deals and much more - sign up for our free You Beauty weekly newsletter here Subscribe to Mamamia here GET IN TOUCH: Got a beauty question you want answered? Email us at youbeauty@mamamia.com.au or send us a voice message, and one of our Podcast Producers will come back to you ASAP. You Beauty is a podcast by Mamamia. Listen to more Mamamia podcasts here. CREDITS: Hosts: Leigh Campbell & Kelly McCarren Producer: Mollie Harwood & Sophie Campbell Audio Producer: Tina Matolov Video Producer: Marlena Cacciotti Mamamia's studios are furnished with thanks to Fenton & Fenton. For more head to their website here. Mamamia acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Land we have recorded this podcast on, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. We pay our respects to their Elders past and present, and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.Become a Mamamia subscriber: https://www.mamamia.com.au/subscribeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We are constantly getting asked about our glandular scents. Most of the questions that we get are related to the time of year we use the scents, the specific scent we use prior to deer season and during the rut, what Raised Scents are our main go to's, and how to apply apply the scents in the field. Since we have been getting all these questions, we are releasing a special edition podcast for you guys! We are going to be talking all about Raised Scents! Easton and David sit down to give you an overview on the glandular scents we offer, the new bundles that are out, how to use Raised Scents, and what Raised Scents we use through the deer season! If you guys like this special addition, leave us a review, comment, or even questions and we just might make this a new special edition series! As always, don't forget to pickup some Raised Scents for yourself!Discount Codes:You guys have been absolutely amazing when it comes to supporting Raised Hunting so we wanted to return the favor! Just for all you loyal RH Podcast listeners we have some discount codes for you! We not only have a code to get you 15% off all Grizzly Cooler items on their website, but we got you guys a code for 15% all Raised Hunting products!!!Grizzly Cooler Discount Code: RZDGRZ24Raised Hunting Discount Code: RHPCREW15Subscribe To Raised Hunting On YouTube:Raised Hunting:https://www.youtube.com/@raisedhuntingRaised Hunting Podcast: https://www.youtube.com/@RaisedHuntingPodcastGet Your Raised Scents Today:Raised Scents:https://www.raisedhunting.com/collections/raised-scents-2-0Raised Scents Queen-pin Bundle:https://www.raisedhunting.com/products/the-queen-pin-bundleDavid's Select Scents:https://www.raisedhunting.com/products/davids-select-scents-1The Elite Package:https://www.raisedhunting.com/products/the-elite-package-1

Jim Hill and Lauren Hersey follow their cult-favorite “cup” episode with a deep dive into the most powerful sense in the Disney parks—smell. From Mickey's PhilharMagic to burning Rome and popcorn-scented blowers, this episode explores how Imagineering has used fragrance for decades to spark emotion, trigger nostalgia, and boost sales. Plus, they dig into scented merch like candles, oils, and the plushie line that smells good enough to eat. How scent became a secret weapon in Disney park design Walt Disney's original plan to use smells in Fantasia The evolution of “Smellitizers” and where they show up in classic attractions The rise of smell-based merch: Scenty, Magic Candle Co., and Disney oils What munchlings are—and how they combine snacks, scent, and plushies If you've ever chased the smell of Main Street popcorn or hunted for the perfect Polynesian candle, this one's for you. Unlocked Magic Unlocked Magic, powered by DVC Rental Store and DVC Resale Market, offers exclusive Disney & Universal ticket savings with TRUSTED service and authenticity. With over $10 MILLION in ticket sales, use Unlocked Magic to get the BIGGEST SAVINGS. Learn More Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Lionel wraps up the show continuing his discussion on the most impressionable smells and bad ways to die. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices