You will find the details of the freewrite here and of course you can take part in it as well if you like.

Here's my #freewrite about todays prompt "The smell from within":

When Jean-Baptiste smelled it, he couldn't hold back anymore. Days, weeks, months - no, his whole life he was searching for this smell. This unique, extreme, nausiating, beautiful crime of a smell. He knew it was out there. It wasn't just another dream where he was chasing his desires and dug his nose into the lust of whatever his dreaming mind made him think the pillow under his head was. No, this was real and he was determined to smell the source and this even if it meant his end.

The street was sprawling as all streets of Paris were sprawling on a sunny market day in peace times. Meat, vegetables, fruits and spices from all over the world as well as living animals were handed over to the next owner. And every merchant, every customer and ever item had its own specific smell that resulted in a bouquet of smells that made up the fingerprint of Paris on a sunny market day in peace times. But this hint of a smell was something else.

It was like the fingertip of Paris containing its fingerprint got cut with a diamond and the blood coming out of the finger touches the diamond and a sun-ray that is shining through the diamond is broken first by the medium that diamond is made up of, just to reach the deep red drop of blood where the single components of the ray reflect away and finally reach the eye of the observer who can do nothing but cry over this rainbow-like beauty he sees and that has only reached his eye because at the beginning there was pain.

And in exactly this manner, Jean-Baptiste Grenoullie smelled this strange and disturbing, but heavenly thread of molecules that has entered his unique nose.

There it was. Right next to one of the gas lanterns lying on the curbstone was a dead cat, forgotten by the owner and ignored by the merchants. Its death was fresh, maybe one day, maybe two and it must have fallen off the lantern and ended there because of an injury from the fall. Not normal, for sure. But no cat has a tenth life and so it lay there in its own dry blood evaporating this unique and divine smell while waiting for Jean-Baptiste who shall discover and examine and smell it not just with his nose, but with his entirety.

For moments, he only stood there while staring at it. Then, he approached it with a look left and right for anyone who could stop him in his path. With an ernest expression on his face like a nun in front of Jesus he kneeled down and bowed over the cat taking a deep, deep breath. There it was. It was in fact the cat and the smell came from within and now it would be his.

He took his knife and carefully removed the cats furry skin near the injury, he cut deeper to lay bare the intestines and there, on a sunny market day in Paris with the streets sprawling with busy people conducting their businesses, the sad soul of our Grenoullie had nothing in mind of that kind but only to follow the overwhelming urge to cover his face in the bloody left-overs of a dead and forgotten cat and he should get what he desired.

Inspired by the book Perfume by Patrick Süßkind (a good read!).

image source: Wikipedia