mausoleum of smells

Inside your head there is a small room full of cabinets. Row upon row of classified memories, archived by smell, sound and time.

Their owners are long gone. But their remnant molecules lay trapped in the still air like empty perfume bottles. 

Leaving you only with a faint dull ache and fragmented visions that are as captivatingly real and factual at the same time. 

Image by Phish.