Welcome to Aprils Blind Sniff. As always the aim is to guess the juice. We have a bonus round this month; I hope that is going to be alright with everyone.
Wake up in the morning, on Saturday and open vial #1. Narrow it down, notes, market, gender, feelings, and emotions.
Dont be afraid to ask questions. Sniffers are welcome to guess in the thread, but those guesses will be treated as musings, all official guesses must come via PM. (If you guess too fast [the first five minutes after sniffing] I wont confirm until others have had an opportunity to work through a little. The home audience should guess via pm, but may post questions publicly.
Most of all have fun.
. . .
Welcome to Aprils Blind Sniff. Take a trip with Sammy. Sammys going places. Sammy is in love.
The first time Sammy saw her, he saw her through a haze of smoke though the blare of the band imitating the three cord nonchalance of the Sex Pistols. In the crowd of black, black hair, black nails, leather and hard edges, she looked, in contrast, pure. Not innocent, but pure.
He moved through the crowd, wading closer to try to see if her eyes were gray or brown. She reached toward him. Her hand on his hand stopped time, and the coolness and heat of her skin on his skin conveyed all the secrets of eternity. In that moment she stepped closer. Like a hound he caught her smell. He got her in his nose, in his head and he had her.
The band finished their song. The crowd moved - black hair and leather between them, they parted. She was gone.
He followed her east, first to Brooklyn. At the Navy Yard Sammy signed on for the first boat to sail. He crossed the Atlantic, trying to catch a whiff of her but getting only salt breezes. He despaired through the Azores. He sulked past the Cape of Good Hope.
He toiled through the Indian Ocean loading crates and cleaned fish across the China Sea. Finally, Sammy headed toward the beginning - the first island, the first mountain, the first gardens, the first groves. He could smell her and knew he was getting closer. In Awaji he lost her again.
He wandered. His boat had sailed. Now every highway took him nowhere. In despair he turned back, he longed for her gray eyes and, failing that, the gray lines of New York.
He headed home, but a flash of yellow brick detoured him. It seemed a color she might wear. The breeze teased him with a scent that might be hers. He followed that road to the Emerald City, then the trail was gone.
His high top Chuck Taylors were worn through, and black. Clicking his heels took him nowhere.
The docks of Oz were like the docks anywhere - wet pylons, graffiti, and forgotten dinghies. No one looked or cried thief as he stole a boat and headed west.
He sailed away past the rocks where the sirens sang. They didnt slow him down. They had nothing on her. Past the Cyclops, he rowed until the blisters on his palms wept. Sammy wanted to weep too. He hauled his boat into the reeds, and shouted. He tilted back his head, and howled and his black hair was ripped by the breeze as he crossed the Elysian Fields.
His shouts woke Kronos, and woke his pity too. Kronos took him by the shoulder and turned him and pushed him back onto the road, then pushed him again to keep him stumbling on.
He had her scent in his nose, could almost taste her in his mouth all through Paris. The essence was so elusive it might have been smoke, but he knew she was close.
He found her dancing on the left bank of the Seine. Trees crossed their arms above them like a wedding canopy He ran to her and fell to his knees. He lay prostrated until she reached for his hand. She pulled him to his knees. He stood, and she led him home.
Wake up in the morning, on Saturday and open vial #1. Narrow it down, notes, market, gender, feelings, and emotions.
Dont be afraid to ask questions. Sniffers are welcome to guess in the thread, but those guesses will be treated as musings, all official guesses must come via PM. (If you guess too fast [the first five minutes after sniffing] I wont confirm until others have had an opportunity to work through a little. The home audience should guess via pm, but may post questions publicly.
Most of all have fun.
. . .
Welcome to Aprils Blind Sniff. Take a trip with Sammy. Sammys going places. Sammy is in love.
The first time Sammy saw her, he saw her through a haze of smoke though the blare of the band imitating the three cord nonchalance of the Sex Pistols. In the crowd of black, black hair, black nails, leather and hard edges, she looked, in contrast, pure. Not innocent, but pure.
He moved through the crowd, wading closer to try to see if her eyes were gray or brown. She reached toward him. Her hand on his hand stopped time, and the coolness and heat of her skin on his skin conveyed all the secrets of eternity. In that moment she stepped closer. Like a hound he caught her smell. He got her in his nose, in his head and he had her.
The band finished their song. The crowd moved - black hair and leather between them, they parted. She was gone.
He followed her east, first to Brooklyn. At the Navy Yard Sammy signed on for the first boat to sail. He crossed the Atlantic, trying to catch a whiff of her but getting only salt breezes. He despaired through the Azores. He sulked past the Cape of Good Hope.
He toiled through the Indian Ocean loading crates and cleaned fish across the China Sea. Finally, Sammy headed toward the beginning - the first island, the first mountain, the first gardens, the first groves. He could smell her and knew he was getting closer. In Awaji he lost her again.
He wandered. His boat had sailed. Now every highway took him nowhere. In despair he turned back, he longed for her gray eyes and, failing that, the gray lines of New York.
He headed home, but a flash of yellow brick detoured him. It seemed a color she might wear. The breeze teased him with a scent that might be hers. He followed that road to the Emerald City, then the trail was gone.
His high top Chuck Taylors were worn through, and black. Clicking his heels took him nowhere.
The docks of Oz were like the docks anywhere - wet pylons, graffiti, and forgotten dinghies. No one looked or cried thief as he stole a boat and headed west.
He sailed away past the rocks where the sirens sang. They didnt slow him down. They had nothing on her. Past the Cyclops, he rowed until the blisters on his palms wept. Sammy wanted to weep too. He hauled his boat into the reeds, and shouted. He tilted back his head, and howled and his black hair was ripped by the breeze as he crossed the Elysian Fields.
His shouts woke Kronos, and woke his pity too. Kronos took him by the shoulder and turned him and pushed him back onto the road, then pushed him again to keep him stumbling on.
He had her scent in his nose, could almost taste her in his mouth all through Paris. The essence was so elusive it might have been smoke, but he knew she was close.
He found her dancing on the left bank of the Seine. Trees crossed their arms above them like a wedding canopy He ran to her and fell to his knees. He lay prostrated until she reached for his hand. She pulled him to his knees. He stood, and she led him home.
