There’s this smell that only exists in
Milwaukee in October. The thin smoky jet of laundry after the rain. Wet leaves half-drying, half getting wet again. Open PBR cans,
cigarettes, leather. A mix of youth and nostalgia, of losing something
as you’re living it. The feeling, both terrifying and comforting, that life would always
be exactly like this.
Zhanna Slor
Everyday Strange 
Love this! Had to immediately look this writer up!
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I’m glad it resonated with you!
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