Yesterday I was chatting with my friend Bill when I noticed… a smell. It was a very pleasant smell, kind of like something…burning. He was telling me about a personal life drama of his but I was distracted wondering what that smell could be. It just smelled so good, like a fire, the good kind made out of nice logs, like hickory maybe. Pretty soon I was searching around my office for a smoldering tinder pile I’d somehow overlooked. I didn’t find any so I did a full-house burning-smell search. I didn’t find anything except when I returned it smelled like I had a fireplace burning in my office.
I asked Bill whether he ever smelled things that aren’t there. He gave a classic Bill-ish answer, which is to say he both agreed with me and was vague. He said “I think so.” I told him what was going on with the yummy burning smell and we both kind of sat there, his life drama on hold as mine unfolded, me concentrating fully on not becoming seduced by the cartoon-like tendril of scent that had formed and was wafting its way around me, tapping me on the shoulder, and suggesting I had a brain tumor, the kind that creates smells which aren’t there.
Then I remembered! I’d spritzed some room fragrancing spray stuff in my office earlier that morning. I sprayed some more and waited. It said Water Lily and Made in England on the bottle. Pretty soon....mmmmm. The Smell. We were both happy and relieved to not only have found the source of the delicious smell, but to know I could recreate it any time I want and I probably don’t have a brain tumor, and even if I do it’s just a tiny little one that makes Water Lily smell like Fireplace.