"The Unforgotten Museum of Scent and Memory"

#0094. Those smells are what cling to memory. Opening a sticking door and being hit with the scent of age and accumulated detritus. The moldering wood and the loose banister. The aroma of boiling potatoes and dense bread wafting down in a nearly visible cloud. Each stair groaning under even negligible weight. It was the heavy air of a museum loosed and rushing into my nostrils. It is still there even now. The house has long crumbled. Every inhabitant long dead or relocated. But the place still exists in the memory of its particular odor.