Time for a Fiction in 58. That’s 58 words, no more, no less.
The flat is filled with scents: burnt toast, coffee, candles, a faint whiff of her favorite cologne.
He approaches the bedroom and detects trails of lotion, musk – sex. His heartbeat rises. His heart sinks.
He bursts in; she’s not there.
The passion. The argument. The storming off.
A new scent fills him with fear.
An iron smell.