The Lemons That I Smell

All i could smell was his penhalligan's colone, with its undertones of lavender and peppery, heady citris. My mother made each of us suck one, and then shook with muffled laughter as we winced. We were happy, until my father caught us. It was those lemons that i thought of years later, lying in this stranger's bed,. The englishman was standing over me, unaware that i was awake. He set my tea upon the dresser, then he carefully lifted my cotton bed sheet as though he were peeling a bandage from tender flesh. His eyes travelled up my bare leg as it emerged from the sleep twisted sheets