Passing through the smokers out behind the Dufferin Mall, I caught the scent of that old round table lighter in my grandmother’s apartment, or maybe the Zippo my dad let me play with because he never did get around to refilling the thing . . . a whiff of the fuel, the smell of flint against steel, and the chime of metal on metal when you snapped it shut. Except that this one belonged to a younger man, who had taken a pass on those disposable plastic jobs for something more substantial, flipping it open just out of the corner of my eye.
Image from Found Walls.
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by Charis ...
1 month ago
Added to Sunday Scribblings.
ReplyDeleteA nice one...
ReplyDeleteShort and crisp!
Added to ABC Wednesday.
ReplyDeleteYep, the Zippo was a classic during WW the TWO.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful sparks, as well as your writing!
ReplyDeleteYou should read the story of little Roy written by Berowne.!
ReplyDeleteWil, ABCW Team
I do remember them, for some reason.
ReplyDeleteROG, ABCW
Yes I remember this. The photo is lovely.
ReplyDeleteMy ABC WEDNESDAY
I have one and it can be lethal, but a gale force wind and torrential rain cannot dowse the flame. Plastic throwaways just don't compete.
ReplyDeleteBrings back memories, and reminds me that every once in a long while I would love to have a cigarette!
ReplyDeleteI remember a relative who had had one. It used to intrigue me :)
ReplyDeleteLeo @ I Rhyme Without Reason
Always had Zippo lighters back in the 70's and 80's, now they are hard to find thanks to the disposal ones.
ReplyDeleteI can hear and smell the lighter, too, as I read your words. Nice.
ReplyDeleteThe View from the Top of the Ladder
Added to dVerse Poets Pub—Scents that linger.
ReplyDeleteI love the intrigue of all that remains unsaid here, the mystery you've drawn my eye to. Very nice!
ReplyDeleteOh that scent... I can feel you being pulled back in time,
ReplyDeletethat zippo lighter has been brought to life through all the senses. Nicely done! (I'd fogotten that smell of flint on steel...but reading this, I can almost smell it again!)
ReplyDeleteOh boy, that Zippo clunk, that macho whiff of lighter fluid, & some of them one could adjust the height of the stalwart flame; excellent poem, rocks the prompt.
ReplyDeleteA most evocative smell indeed. No smokers in my family but a friend's father had one and I remember that smell.
ReplyDeleteGreat sounds to this poem also... especially that snapping shut of the Zippo.
ReplyDeleteExcellent write.
ReplyDeleteMy father had one. Your description of the scent and the sounds took me right back to when I was a child and that memory.
ReplyDeleteSmiles.. as much
ReplyDeleteas i always hated
cigarette smoke..
the first liGht
of my father's
smoke is all
he spoke
to me..
strangely
it then was
comforting
enough while
i choke back
a cough now
and then..:)
This really gets to the heart of all the senses: a whiff of the fuel, the smell of flint against steel, and the chime of metal on metal when you snapped it shut.
ReplyDeleteThat's something I don't miss since giving up smoking nearly 30 years ago.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing the memory. Nice write. Peace, Linda
ReplyDeleteThank you. I enjoyed this strong scent piece.
ReplyDelete