March 13, 2016
The Smell of Love
Marilyn Rudy-Froese
She couldn’t get the smell of death out of her nostrils. It seemed to cling to her—her clothes, her hair, her skin. It didn’t matter where she went, or how many times she had bathed, the smell went with her. It didn’t matter that Lazarus was now alive and eating with their friends; he had […]