A Fra­grant Dream Diary (Part I)

In this series, discover the dream diary of a character whose dreams are regularly crossed by scents, and through her entries, wander in the mysterious unconscious of an olfactory dreamer.

August 9, 2023

Last night, for the first time in ages, I had that weird impression of smelling a familiar scent in the middle of my dream.

I believe the last time it happened was about ten years ago. Shortly after Mochi disappeared. I remember waking up startled, thinking that I had just inhaled the comforting scent of her warm fur. Oh how I cried during these few days! All the while this little devil was just living her adventurous cat’s life! When, unaware of all the worry she had caused us, she finally showed up again, I had never been happier to dive my nose into her sweet red fur!

Last night however, there was no sweet-smelling cat fur in my dream, but a slightly sweet rose scent. Tenuous at first, it soon became so intense that it woke me up. Was I in a garden? Or a florist shop? I do not remember. The images did not stay with me. Only the smell, and a feeling of unusual bliss.

August 10, 2023

Just like yesterday, I found myself overwhelmed by the scent of roses. I believe I was standing in a tea room and roses seemed oddly out of place. I can’t really remember the faces of the people that accompanied me like shadows. Why does this smell follow me? I’m still confused by this feeling of smelling something so clearly in the midst of a dream. It gave me the impression of being really there, and yet “there” was blurred when I woke up! The place, the people, the situation altogether have disappeared, but the certainty of having smelled the sweet soul of a rose remains.

August 11, 2023

I finally understand why the smell of roses has pervaded my dreams lately. Last night, I found myself in a tea room again. Not quite the same as last time, nor quite different. A waiter brought me a rose and raspberry macaroon that I hadn’t ordered. I could see the cake very clearly, yet I could not, this time, smell it. I think I protested, explaining that I hadn’t ordered anything. “It’s from the gentleman over there,” the waiter said. I turned around and saw Grandpa, sitting alone at a table. He was smiling at me. That’s when the smell hit me, stronger than all the other times: an enticing aroma of rose and raspberry and love.

I looked up the calendar this morning. This week, Grandpa would have celebrated his 90th birthday. And I’m fairly certain that I’ve never enjoyed a rose and raspberry macaroon with anyone other than him… Oh what powers a smell holds!

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