Recall a smell or taste that has a happy personal memory for you.
Fresh apples, before they're cut. When I was about eight or nine, my favorite fruit of all time was apples. Mom brought some home one time and one of them was just so fragrant and apple-y that I couldn't bear to eat it. I put it in a little basket and kept it next to my bed so I could smell it when I slept. I carried it around the house with me. I specifically remember sitting in the dining-room window, which was deep-set enough in the old part of the house that the will was wide enough to sit comfortably, sniffing my apple, while the golden afternoon sunshine poured through the window and warmed up everything. I felt like a princess before she finds out the apple is poisoned--I knew why the princess would take the bite even though the old lady giving the apple was so obviously creepy. I finally ate that apple and it was tart and sweet and crispy and juicy and perfect, and I ate everything but the stem.
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