Smell
A man begins to follow me around with a tape recorder, recording every single utterance I make, and playing it back to me instantly. Hey Beatrice I say. Hey Beatrice my recorded voice says. My voice sounds so nasally, and the inflection seems to me to be quite effeminate. I grow embarrassed. What is this Beatrice says, nodding towards the man with the tape recorder. I’m not sure; he just started following me. I’m not sure; he just started following me my recorded voice says. Beatrice looks at me, then to the man, then back to me. This is weird she says, and begins to walk off. I know, but wait I say, but before I can finish, I hear my voice say I know, but wait. I follow Beatrice down the road, begging her to speak with me. Please, Beatrice, I love you. I stop walking, unsure if I had said this, or my recorded voice. Hm my recorded voice says.
