This was at least one single smell. He heard his tormentors laugh at him and comment on what a worthless wimp he was and how much he deserved to be tr...ated like the dog he was. He couldn’t follow them that closely though, as his senses were overwhelmed by the situation. He couldn’t see much beyond the floor and the sock he was nuzzling, and his nose was filled with the penetrating smell of cured cheese and spoiled milk, as well as the unpleasant touch of the fabric, stiff with dried up. He was a well built man, forty years old, well dressed, but not designer labels glaring out at you. He sat in his usual seat by the window in the restaurant, blankly looking out over the cityscape. The evening crowds of families, older folks and workers hustling to home and markets had died down. It was a cool, damp night; not the kind of night for venturing out unless for a purpose. The nighttime crowd had not yet made its appearance. It would be a light crowd since it was early in the. More

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