Word: smells
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...scenes to good effect. But repetitiveness can be boring, as example by an old man's reminiscence of a night he spent in a woodshed with the local rich girl. He endlessly repeats the same fragments of his mind; her breasts, the dew on the grass, the smell of the wood chips, while he makes sassafras...
...dissolve in bliss. Wait, he says, have somebody else snap it so the mother can be in there too -and she goes out of her mind with joy. But is he too jolly? Yes. Driven by something that is bigger than him and bigger than anybody. There is the smell of position and power already in Kennedy's office. The couch is thick and lush, not the black Government issue. The pictures on the walls are large and professional-of family and friends, telling in their way the Senator's past and his purpose. The other candidates seem...
...rain falling to the appropriate surface-the color lost in the blue sky, lost onto the vision we see them, the clouds now whiter and still moving the sun now higher the light, now above the mountains, has moved from eclipse to sharper distinction, less peaceful stasis pinon-you smell it as everything around you clouds and light moving across the mesa the highway lost as a thirsting arroyo, brief and fearful potential, one can run across any land easiest in the arroyos-the length greater, but the water does it because it is the only way-if not meander...
...efficiency, curve the corners of the room, their openings are the most wonderful of parabolas, three pinon logs leaning in on each other, the tops burn, and they lean farther and farther until they touch, and are, ashes, they give warmth for the soul and body, and the smell of the land that rose through hands into the house around, it is a land of the mind and all of the infinites of wonder it invites, there is no question of a god, the answer in the subtleties of colors that are distinct in their closeness, there is so much...
Just One More. Two days later, when I pulled Anglin' Sam out of bed at 5 a.m., he remarked that I had a funny glazed look. "Bass on the brain," he called it. The odd smell in the air-a combination of pork rind, outboard motor oil, anise and fish scales-he called "essence of largemouth." That afternoon, while twitching purple-plastic worms off the bottom, I had a strike that seemed to turn the boat around. When I set the hook, it felt like there was an anvil on the other end. Diving and circling the boat...