Smelly Memories

We share the house with “the monkey people,” fellow researchers, who study Aotus azarae instead of Homo sapiens. They often bring back goodies from their field site. Feathers and honeycombs litter their desks; monkey skeletons and Ziploc baggies of simian hair occupy the communal sample freezer. Today the house filled with a smell of an exotic (unknown to me) fruit. It became so strong that my co-worker lit incense before hunting for the source: a plastic bag with a few greenish yellow fruits. She sighed wistfully and said the smell made her want to visit Cuba and eat frutas all day long. 


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