Logan walked towards his car, carrying the last of his things out of the apartment we used to call home. I followed him outside, but stopped by the door to stand with my best friend, Keen.

Turning around, Logan said, “Professor Bolas might not share your ‘cripples, fags and chicks are so very oppressed’ opinion, but I saw it in his eyes, Bekah, the man’s brilliant where it counts. He would have seen my potential if your mouth hadn’t shat on every chance he ever gave me.”

“Brainless views make benighted eye socket pretties, Logan, but see naught,” I said, while wondering if I would ever be able to explain to my brain why I had shared my body with a stranger for three years.

Getting ready to drive away, his eyes full of a fury that reeked of disgust, Logan’s gaze sizzled between Keen and me, before saying, “For fuck’s sake, woman! Speak like a real person. Or no one who matters will ever take you seriously.”

After he left, I wiped grief, disenchantment, rage and humiliation with the back of my sleeve. I wanted to keep anyone other than Keen from noting the evidence of my emotional deluge.

Keen walked closer to me, touched my eye with a finger, raised the moist digit to his nose, and said, “Petrichor, Rebekah love. From here on, nothing but reasoned rainbows.”

I smiled at him and at the world. For I, too, smelled the scent of cleansed tomorrows.

the wee notes…
Petrichor: the pleasant scent that often accompanies the first rain, after a dry spell.
– Linked to Sanaa’s Prompt Nights: “Nothing is more memorable than Scent”.

photo, by Robert Draves
(find more of his yummy work on Instagram)

35 thoughts on “Petrichor

  1. Oh Magaly ❤❤ this is such a beautifully poignant write.. sigh.. there is nothing better than the scent of cleansed tomorrows.. which indicate that we deserve so much better in this world. Thank you so much for participating at Prompt Nights and for your constant love and support 😘😘

    Lots of love,

  2. The strength to love, the strength to let go, to love yourself more if the need arises is a strength that broadens the Soul painfully. Tears are the lubrication needed to ease the friction of moving forward. Your piece was wrenching and truthful. Words woven into palatable lessons. You are a wonderful teacher.

  3. “Petrichor, Rebekah love. From here on, nothing but reasoned rainbows…the scent of cleansed tomorrows.” My goodness is that lovely!

  4. WOW!!!!!!!!!!! Good riddance to Logan! That line “Brainless views make benighted eye socket pretties, Logan, but see naught,” I said”, is too brilliant! I love Keen’s “From here on, nothing but reasoned rainbows.”

  5. For I, too, smelled the scent
    of cleansed tomorrows

    At least one gets to be hopeful of good feelings for the future. This is something for sharing with others! Rightly so Magaly!


  6. I could feel that sizzle like a magic spark of water on rotten, frazzled cement – may he take his sorry ass elsewhere..she has bright skies ahead – a magical story – and always love the smell of petrichor

  7. I love to read (and write, for that matter) prose that is infused with poetry…prose written by a poet. Wouldn’t I like to know the whole story here! This line is so good:
    “Petrichor, Rebekah love. From here on, nothing but reasoned rainbows.”

    • I love that you said that, Victoria. For I believe that my prose has grown so much since I started writing poetry. And I truly love that.

      And just so you know, you might get to read what happens next. 😉

  8. Love that scent after the first rain. It is a memorable scent, indeed. But I enjoyed the depiction more, woven in your story; “the scent of cleansed tomorrows.” Beautiful and assuring ending.♥

  9. I remember reading this the first time you published it, and enjoying it then. I appreciate it even more now, contrasting the bluntness of Logan with the romantic prose of Keen and Rebekah. And yes, after a good rain, real or metaphorical, the world can seem so much more alive.

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