biography: the smell of preschool

While at work the other day, (I work at a daycare), I noticed that the hand soap in the bathroom had been changed. The smell was familiar and the signature label has been branded into my brain from the time I was four-years-old. Suddenly, I was overcome with memories from when I myself was in preschool. It might be strangely specific, but the soap below, (or the "fish soap" as it's referred to in my family), has such a nostalgic smell for me.

(Image information: The "fish soap" obtained from Target)

Although I never purchase this soap myself, anytime I use I get fond flashbacks of much simpler times--the times of bear hunts, baby bumblebees, and photoshoots for every season or holiday. Occasionally, I'll wash my hands in a public restroom and get sent straight back to my preschool classroom where I washed my hands for lunch everyday after a long morning of crafting.
The daily ritual before lunch was to stand in a line waiting to get on the step stool to wash our hands. Then, we would head to the lunchroom where I would eat my signature peanut butter sandwich, (which I have another preschool story about), or chicken nuggets. As we walked down to eat lunch, the scent of the soap was subtle, but it's the thing I would end up remembering the most from preschool. To this day it's a scent that I love and remember very fondly.

Author's Note: I got this idea from the curated prompts, but this scent was also on my brain lately because I have been using it a lot at work. I kept this one short, but I do have many other preschool stories I would love to tell. Putting these memories into words really helps me look back and reflect on times in my life that. Haven't thought about for awhile.

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week two story: family traditions

It was my first day at a new school in a new place, and I was not looking forward to it. I had never attended a public school, but my mom told me it was time. "Rish, you're seventeen now. You know you have to do this to carry on our family's traditions," my mother pressured. "Mom, I know," I say, slipping the fresh canvas backpack over my shoulders. I have never carried a schoolbag before, so this was different. My outdated textbooks weren't the only thing weighing me down, though. You see, the women in my family are all rakshasis. If you don't know what rakshasis are, we're creatures with the ability to lure people in, then eat them when we feel it's right. Naturally, we aren't the most attractive, with two huge fangs protruding from our mouths and a not-so petite figure. Luckily, we have the opportunity to shape shift into whatever we want. This makes luring even the least gullible very easy for us. In my family, w...

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week three story: dharma's funeral

The skies were grey over the bright lotus blossoms the day of Dharma's funeral. Dharma, who had ruled the kingdom of Koshola for upwards of forty years, was the monarch of many peoples' dreams. She was kind and understanding, but, most of all, she was wise and strong-willed. The kingdom had not had any conflict since the time Dharma took the throne; she was level-headed and preferred her peace over any war. Throughout her rule, the only thing causing Dharma disdain was her daughter, Binsa. As her name suggests, Binsa was a fearless girl, so much so that it got her in trouble many times, but she was always redeemed by Dharma. As Binsa grew older, she became more like her mother everyday. Although she already possessed the agency to be the next monarch, Binsa began helping build up the kingdom's marginalized communities that desperately needed assistance. She was turning out to be a great leader, but she didn't think it would come so soon. Dharma had been sick for man...

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