He was finally released, after five long months of incarceration over bogus, trumped-up charges. He remarked that the thing that he really found overwhelming was the myriad of smells. Rather than the fetid smell of dead rats in the recesses of the dungeon and the sanitized, sterile jail environs, as he walked into the house he smelled the remnants of my eggy, yellow challah that had been in the toaster in the kitchen which had since been slathered in butter and agave honey nectar. Of familiar dusty wood floors. The smell of lavender soap in the bathroom. The smells were something that overwhelmed him, and yet told him he was free.