Very few things have the power to make your eyes water, your body convulse, your nose close, your mouth foretaste vomit and your ears ring with the ghost of primal pains like the stench of decaying flesh. Yet, my boss’ cologne managed it just fine.
“JEAN!” The yell barely preceded a sickening whiff. “Why isn’t my new set-up set up already?”
“Because I only got the order form this morning.” Three weeks after I asked him to sign it.
He threw his hands up. “I need a better assistant.”
Maybe his perfume wasn’t the biggest source of disgust, after all.
This is a drabble for last Monday’s prompt.