Wife just collected the ID cards of a lot of colleagues and then made me fill the take-home lunchboxes, which we will later donate to her mother for "poor old people" (those being herself actually). While doing this I drop some damned squid-tofu stuff sauce on my finger. Sitting back in office I think about some work-related problem and unconsciously rub my nose with my finger, inevitably getting the squid smell in my nostrils.
And then the memory came back. That night 1998 in Havana, Cuba, the girls was called Lety or something, the Hotel was called Commodoro and I had picked her up in the "Three Fishhead Bar". Or it must have been named like that judging from how my fingers smelled...
Sigh, odors can take you back to sweet and distant memories....











