March 21, 2011

Orchids and chrysanthemums smell like death to me: the cloying sweetness of casket-side flowers, wilting from the heat of bodies pressed too close as passersby sob their payment to Chiron. The trees outside my apartment complex have a sickeningly sweet scent: not pleasing like honeysuckle, but of something decaying like fruit left too long in the sun. The blossoms themselves are beautiful white flowers sprinkled like snow across dark branches. Bradford pears or...