Another Assignation with Charles Bonnet

The West End’s noisy today and even though I’ve lived here for
five years if I’m not careful I’ll get lost so I cement a
thousand yard stare on my face and make a beeline
for Charing Cross Station.

The traffic fumes sting my nose and the streets are full of
obstacles to overcome. A police car, with it’s sirens blaring,
half circles me as I wait to cross Shaftesbury Avenue and a
group of Italians chatter away quickly to my left while an American
lazily notice the obvious to my right. The whine of a rickshaw drawls
by and as soon as it has passed I take my life into my own hands and
step into the road with a babel of voices ringing in my ears.

The next thing I know a bus whistles past me, taking me by
surprise and as the wind catches my face I gasp, lose
my balance and stumble backwards.

As I prepare to collide with the pavement I feel arms around me,
fingertips press into my shoulders and a distinctive scent
enters my nose. Cinnamon. Sweat. Leather. Tobacco. A unique aroma
which announces his presence with a bang. I breathe him in deeply,
trapping every drop of his essence in my olfactory canal
and I savour it slowly before committing it to memory.

This is love at first smell and I am overwhelmed. Suddenly my life
becomes a compulsion to make him mine. Unable to resist I brush
my fingers over his hand and a network of nerve endings dance over the
surface of my skin registering the soft warmth of his
body and the faint pulse of his life force.

My senses are racing towards overload and as I taste
him in the air my mind wanders...