The vulgar odors of sweat mix with the overpowering aroma of steaming black cesspools of caffeine envelope me, oppressively pushing their way to my nose. These smells threaten to force themselves into every pore of my entire being. And so I miss my stop. Fuck. A quick breath of fresh air fills my lungs, but escapes me as fast as it came as the sliding doors close. I am yet again trapped in the stench. I sigh as a sign of my defeat; today is not going so well. But something, so familiar, lingers in the air, a perfume like a diamond in the rough. This alluring scent pulls at me, and I have to find it.
Though the scents of the people are rather repulsive, I keep to my search. The smell eases my frustration, calming me, bringing me a sense of serenity, motivating me to continue, eliciting a yearning to trace it, to place the origin. The train becomes a maze, one keeping me from my destination. I push through the throng of people around me, shifting among the wall that they have become. The name of the scent evades my memory as I attempt to recall it, the single word on the very tip of my tongue. Frustration drives me to a new levels of crazed hunting. Unable to recall it I search more frantically before the next stop, not wanting to have the source of the scent, like the name, escape my grasp.
Pushing more desperately toward the scent I hear the klaxon sound before the next stop. Like a madman I force my way closer to where I believe my target is, only to lurch forward at the sudden stop of the train. Then the fragrance that lingered in the air is gone. I rush for the door, pushing several people out of the way to get through the doors. I could not let them seal me in and seal my fate to never find the source of this tantalizing fragrance. The reason for my desperate pursuit evolved, transformed into a feeling of want and need intermingling, a longing pulling at me like the strings of a marionette. I was hooked. Like a child escaping the womb I free myself from my vessel, only to be left with a faint hint of that smell. I am left alone on the long stretch of the boarding platform to begin my search anew.
Coming up to the piercing sounds of horns, grating construction and people chattering inanely at cell phones, I follow my quarry away from the main throng of people. Shortly I realize the scent is stronger, playing through my nostrils, tempting me to follow. I must be closer; I have to follow, to know the name, to know its owner.