Writing Prompt: The scent was overpowering.

Good morning all. I woke up this morning with my head full of allergies and stories. The story idea that percolated while I slept was jotted down and with it on paper it is now not filling my head. With luck the allergy meds will knock the rest of the excess filling out. So I actually got a little writing in before my morning writing prompt. It felt a little strange to mix up the order but one really cant help when plot bunnies attack. So regardless of the order, let’s get to the morning prompt. Ready? Excellent!

I found this interesting. It has nothing to do with the story that jumped into my brain in the dark of the night which is kind of nice. I wasn’t sure if it would spill over or not. I’m kind of glad it didn’t as I kind of want to see what happens with this one.

Wednesday, March 24^th: The scent was overpowering.

The scent was overpowering.  It clung to the air as though bonding with every molecule.  He was surprised that he couldn’t see it floating through the air in little droplets.  His eyes watered.  He smiled and tried to pretend he wasn’t choking, suffocating.  The scent seemed to have stolen the oxygen from the air.

He looked down and saw Mrs. Sanderson’s miniscule dog staring at him with large eyes.  He wondered if holding a small animal while wearing that much perfume could be considered animal abuse.  The dog didn’t look pained however.  It looked at him accusingly.

It was as though his small doggie brain saw him dart towards the pitcher of ice water on the table and suspected he wanted to upend it over his mistress in an olfactory defense.

‘No,’ he thought. ‘The dog doesn’t suspect.  He knows.’  Mathew twitched his fingers sliding them across his notepad in the general direction of the water pitcher.  The dog began to grown, his bugged out eyes never leaving Mathew’s face.

‘Yeah he knows.’

“Bubbles, behave.” Mrs. Sanderson chided her pet.  Bubbles fell silent but continued watching Mathew.

For his part Mathew was glad he was only a junior partner.  He may have worked on the proposal.  He may have even been considered an integral part of the team, but he would not be expected to speak.  He was there in case the senior staff members needed questions answered.  They would ask him and he would respond.  He had a vague notion that they would then repeat the information to Mrs. Sanderson and her lawyers as though their ears were not equipped to pick up his voice.

It wasn’t pitched for their tax brackets.

He was made aware that he would in no way address the clients and would in fact remain mute unless directly addressed. That he was in the room was viewed as some sort of privilege.  He was being acknowledged as a valuable member of staff.

‘Or they hate me and want me to suffocate,’ he thought.

He wondered if his positioning next to Mrs. Sanderson was deliberate or if everyone else on the team knew in advance that she marinated in Chanel before arriving and therefore steered clear of the scent impregnated air around her.  He dimly recalled his Grandmother wearing Chanel.  While he recognized the same notes on her it was a delicate scent and seemed classic and feminine.  This was an entirely different thing.  A weapon wielded with the delicacy of a battle axe.

Mathew blinked as he realized the meeting was breaking up.  He stood with the other men, both peons like him and senior staff, when Mrs. Sanderson moved to rise.  She stood up from her chair and turned to step clear, eyeing him as she did.  Mathew momentarily wondered if she and Bubbles shared some sort of psychic connection.  He wondered if she was about to accuse him of potential aqua assault.

“I know you, don’t I?” she asked.  Her eyes narrowed as though she was struggling to locate a memory.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before this, Mrs. Sanderson,” Matthew said, believing a direct question nullified the silence mandate.  He was pleased the words came out smoothly instead of being strangled by the scent.

“No,” she corrected shaking her head.  “We’ve met.  I can’t remember where, but I will.” A shiver ran down his spine.  Her words sounded like a threat.