Rot

I sniff and I sniff

and follow the scent into the kitchen.

Something rots here.

I catch a whiff of something sickly sweet.

Something familiar yet elusive.

I ransack the refrigerator, the cabinets, the treacherous sacks of potatoes and onions, and find nothing.

So I place my hands on my head in despondence

and instead discover a sticky, gooey substance.

Ha ha.

I heave a sigh of relief.

It's only my thoughts decomposing.