The Odour Out Of Space

Nearby, I could see several buildings. They were, um, what’s the word for something that doesn’t have angles? Non-euripidean?

“Please, Wayne,” Lanny implored, “take the sweatshirt off. You’ve totally vanished.” His voice came from a great distance.

“Can you still hear me?” I asked.


“Can you still smell the sweatshirt?”

“Christ, yes, that thing is rank!”

“Like Toucan Sam says, Lanny, follow your nose.”

I walked across the wavering silvery landscape, towards the buildings. They were hard to see directly; you could see them better out of the corner of your eye, kind of like those 3D posters where if you cross your eyes you can see a dolphin riding the space shuttle or something, so I found myself walking kind of sideways towards them like I was some kind of crab.

“Can you still smell me, Lanny?” I shouted.

“Yeah. Oh God. How can you stand it?”

It was pretty rank. The air was filled with an odor that evoked a high school gym locker room filled with decomposing fish. Still, I sidled on.

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