Rachel May

We decided to make the most of our last three days with scent and taste, and we went on eating binges, and drank thousand dollar bottles of wine, and stuffed our noses into lilies and into our spouses’ hair and into their bodies. We smelled the rain and the sun and the dirt and the pizza and the steak. We smelled the eggs and the fresh apples and the baked apples and the smoke from the fires we made at night. We smelled everything, and we smelled everything so hard that, although we did not know it, the smells traveled up into our brains in little tiny particles, and rested there, in compartments labeled “lilies,” and “pizza,” and “Jackie, my wife’s body,” and “Larry’s running socks.” ...

- from The Experiments: A Legend in Pictures & Words Dusie Books