petrichor

Petrichor- the smell of wet soil; especially after rain.

I’m reminded of the one evening i spent an hour outside after the rain, running around with my sister. That one afternoon when we went for a ride far away and got stuck in traffic on the way back.

My father cursed the cars ahead of us, repeatedly slapping the steering wheel.

My mother’s face was decorated in a sly smile; enjoying the weather to its fullest, trying to block out my sisters nonstop raving.

I looked out the window, watching the raindrops creating a blur of black and silver cars.

Just like the smell of mud after rain, raw and real.

It reminded me of california.

Not that california smelled like that,

but it was entrancing, luring any outsider in, engaging anyone already in; if not physically, then mentally.

The excitement that came with every step i took, and the pure joy i felt in hollywood, fulfilling so many dreams i’ve had so far.

California didn’t smell like mud after rain, it didn’t smell half as good,

but just like mud after rain, it transported me far away from here. To a place, that made magic seem real.

I’m reminded of my favourite t-shirt.

It’s not really fancy, but it really doesn’t need to be.

It’s oversized; stretching further than my shorts.

It reminds me of my mom, the time i cunningly stole it from her. Well actually, I say ‘i cunningly stole it’ but instead i just picked it out of her cupboard and ran into my room as she screamed my name behind me.

I spent the next half an hour taunting her and laughing, she said she’d take it back but god knows she never planned to.

Just like the smell of mud after rain, she makes me happy and she doesn’t even need to try.