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  • It was his smell the smell I identified as his own and within days of his death it was the smell I wished to breathe again and again....
    As I rummage around in his room, whilst no one is there, I find it, green glass bottle, pine cone in shape...heart beating, anxious, sweating with nervousness of being found...I quickly tuck it into my sleeve and leave the scene..
    on my way out of his room, my path crosses my mothers, she walks towards the room that was once theirs and is now only hers, without acknowledging her sadness, I interject nervously, 'oh I was just looking for something...' ...
    I am greeted with a blank expression and lifeless eyes...I ignore the obvious depression that has taken over her body and hurry off. I close the door gently behind me so as not to arouse any suspicion. I take hold of the bottle, this is it, my last attempt to bring him back to life and yet I know he is gone, I just met his dead lifeless grey body as I fought through the crowds of 100's of other mourners...he is MY father and yet I couldn't have been further away from him...I had spent that whole morning waiting for him to come back home as a dead person, I wondered if he even knew where home was anymore, he was dead after all, for me though I hung tightly onto this green bottle in the hope that his spirit may now be encased in its aroma, the aroma of the beautiful green bottle....

    I sit in the corner of my room, in a loving embrace with the bottle, I compose myself, sitting upright in a meditative state, I calm my mind...holding the green bottle cupped in both my hands, I move it closer to my face and I take one long sniff......hmmmmmmm....and again....hmmmmm...
    I open my eyes...nothing...I close my eyes...okay let's try again...lotus position...nose-to-bottle....sniff....breathe in deep.....and out ...ahhhhhhh....and again...in and out...ahhh....I open one eye...and quickly shut it...come on Dad, just one last time show me you're still here. I get up and start frantically spraying the scent around my room on my bed sheets, curtains, my clothes, I wave it around in the air, the smell intoxicating, I feel giddy, the smell envelops me and I feel choked with a deep sense of grief and in a moment the scent takes shape it carves out the shape of a face...shoulders...hips...legs..feet...
    There he is right before me, lifeless yet life-like, like a beautiful statue, a grey marble statue, no pulse, no heart beat, but still there, confused I try to reach out to touch him, I am unable to touch him, there is no sensation on my fingers, it seems there is nothing to touch yet I can see him...his image begins to fade and I shout out,
    ''wait...'' ..swishing my arms about in the air desperately trying to hold onto him, the more I flap the quicker the scent disperses and I am left alone standing in my room once again...
    I run to the bottle pick it up and spray it again and again, I can't help but feel I need to try one last time...beaten down...feeling crushed ....the energy within me dry
    I retreat to the corner of the room, fetus position I hug the green bottle, grateful to the green bottle of cologne for bringing my Dad back one last time...
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