The first time I smelled it, I thought it was a pleasant scent. A soft, warm, pungent, slightly acidic scent that drifts in the wind. It is unlike any perfume in the world, very natural, easy to make people relax, also very familiar.Maybe it was the scent of the Rain God. Every time it rains, that scent comes. On the street, in the supermarket, in the bookstore, in the coffee shop, at home, that gentle scent pervades every corner of my world.But on a white rainy day, when icy water molecules wafting through the air amplified that scent, it started to make me feel uneasy. On the old stone stairs, in the midst of a crowd of colorful umbrellas, as soon as that very light scent passed, I was pushed back by a hand. That hand was very hot. I tumbled downhill. I hugged my head and rolled on each slick, sharp, cold, visceral visceral like being crushed by a roller, and in the afterglow, I still saw that red umbrella upstream, quickly leaving my sight. . My head is buzzing every
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