We smelt a ghost last night. Before we didn’t know ghosts had smells. For some unexplainable reason we both woke up at 3:30am. He ate a brownie in the dark and crawled back into bed. We laid there silently for a moment, only half awake, when we both noticed something. It wasn’t a noise or a shadow hallucination we shared, but instead the most intense smell-like the perfume of an old woman. It wasn’t someone passing in the hallway, for the walls are thin like paper, and like a college dorm you hear everything between those studio apartments. The sex, the fighting, the vacuuming. Suddenly the apartment was filled with an almost sickening stench, a rich, nauseating fragrance. Like someone trying to cover up something old with something strong. It was enough to pull me out of my half sleep and almost frightened, I wondered if he could smell it too. And he did. Something was there. We both knew. It was as if someone was walking around the room leaving traces of her scent hanging. And then within a few moments the smell completely vanished. Neither of us said anything and fell back to sleep.