Mildew and Cheap Perfume
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by: Stairs
Total views: 42
Word Count: 216
On most days getting dressed for school was a challenge. At age 7, I would rummage through my drawers trying to find something to wear. Clean clothes were difficult to find.
It was 1972. Our laundry room consisted of an old wringer washer and a makeshift clothesline in the unfinished basement. The basement was cold and dark. You could feel the dampness seep up from the floor. Our dirty laundry laid in heaps on the concrete. On school mornings I would rummage through these piles in desperate search of something reasonably clean to wear to school.
I would take my finds back up to my room for further inspection. The clothes reeked of mildew and perspiration, something akin to raw sewage. In an attempt to camouflage the foul odour, I would often sprinkle the offending garments with my mother’s cheap perfume. The alcohol fumes would sting my eyes. Somehow I believed this to be an improvement and off I would go to school.
The taunts and ridicule were of no consequence other than to contribute to my understanding that life was an obstacle course of sorts. It was the pity in the eyes of the adults that shamed me. Overwhelmed and frightened, I receded into myself and my daydreams.
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