When I stepped off the train in Green Point today, I expected the smell to be overwhelming. It wasn't. Ten minutes later, when I felt my asthma acting up, I thought it was psychosomatic. A few minutes after that, the wind changed -- or I turned a corner or something, and the smell was strong. And I thought, oh yes, that's it. I remember that smell. It smells a little like rot and a little like heat. It's not as bad as it used to be -- because I only walked through it in small pockets, where it used to be heavy and around -- all the time.
Yes, I remember.
And it smelled like home.