His summer-brown smile haunts me. I sense him now, unlike before, he is closer to me. He is gone.
When I Time Travel I’m Going Straight to the Seventies
by Christopher Jug George
At family reunions in Omaha, Uncle Jim’s house smelled like beer, cologne, whiskey, stewed tomatoes, coffee, mowed grass, cabbage rolls, cigarette smoke, kibbeh, hot concrete, bacon, perfume, and cola. I loved that smell.