It was something small.
A faint scent of warm bread from a passing bakery.
Or maybe it was laundry detergent from someone’s open window.

But the moment it hit me,
I stopped walking.

Because it wasn’t just a smell.
It was a memory.
One I didn’t know I had stored somewhere between my ribs.

It took me to a kitchen I hadn’t seen in years.
To laughter I forgot I once knew so easily.
To a season when the world felt a little less heavy.

All from one breath.

I’ve never trusted memory to be linear.
It comes like a wave —
not asking permission,
not checking if I’m ready.

I stood there, halfway to where I was going,
but suddenly deeply present
in where I’d been.

It made me smile.
Then it made me sad.
Then it made me still.

I opened my phone,
more out of instinct than intention.
Scrolled a bit.
Paused on 온라인카지노 —
read the score of a match that didn’t really matter
but made me feel like I was still here, still part of something current.

Sometimes, that’s all we want.
To be here and there at the same time.

Later, I made tea.
Same brand I’ve used for years.
But that night, I noticed it more.

The steam. The scent.
The comfort of holding something warm again.

Before bed, I placed a small pick through 우리카지노.
Familiar. Soft. No pressure.
Just another kind of memory in the making.

Some scents bring you back.
Some just remind you how far you’ve come.

And both are important.