Potpourri

Here’s another thought on today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt word, AROMATIC

Haiku verses are not given titles, but if I were to give this one a title, it would be DESPERATE.

Travelling through northern Ontario one night we were desperate for a motel room, but discovered to our dismay that all the rooms in all the quality motels were booked because of a local convention. “Non-smoking room” was no longer a choice. We took this room and managed to get a few hours sleep in spite of the almost overpowering smell. We didn’t linger long in the morning. 🙂 I was desperate to get home and wash all our clothes, as the smell of stale tobacco had permeated everything we brought into the room.

the last room in
the last motel in town
nicotine potpourri

Anyone who’s ever driven by tobacco kilns in the winter when the workers are turning the tobacco leaves will know what I mean; the whole countryside has that distinctive reek.

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