Sound and Fury

There are more senses to be described than just the one...

As writers, we tend to rely heavily on sight to describe our narrative. But we have four other senses which often go woefully underused. This was a writing exercise we did to try to practise using all five senses in description.
Using all five senses, describe the first time you fell in love...

Note: I wrote not about the first time I fell in love, but one instant where I realized just how deeply in love I was.



I looked down at him, and I felt explosions in my chest. There's something inside, something bubbly and sunny, just overflowing in me.I have to laugh, have to let it all out.
There are tears in the corners of my eyes, and my vision is blurring; the impossible happiness is leaking out He looks up at me, and his eyes, his startling, baby blue eyes, they came alive. So many shades of blue! He smiles at me, and I can see each tiny little tooth, and all the gaps between them. His teeth are so white, his lips and tongue stained pink fro the watermelon. His smile is so big, it seems it can't fit on his face. It sets off more explosions of happiness in me.
He offers me the piece of watermelon in his small, chubby hand, still smiling that perfect, toothy smile. I grin back, lean forward, and take a bite. It is the sweetest watermelon I have ever tasted... wet, delicious watermelon, dancing on my tongue.
He takes another small, child-sized bite, and offers it to me again. We share he whole piece together, one bite after another. The music is playing in the background, I know it, but I don't hear it. I only hear him -- his faint breath, his little giggles, the small way he hummed "mmm mmm!" when he took a bite.
Finally, we finish the chunk of watermelon. He looks at me again, and I am amazed he is still smiling. He never stops smiling! I grin back at him, and he turns to study his plate, as though looking for something else to share. My fingers are wet and sticky, but I touch his little hand. His skin is so soft, his hand so tiny.
I lean closer, breathing in the sweet, gentle smell of baby -- shampoo, baby skin, and the sweet, soft scent of youth.
"Honey," I whispered, "can I have a smooch?"
He turned his face towards me, upwards, lips pursed. I kissed him gently, the sweet, lingering taste of watermelon, just a hint, stuck to his lips.
He smiled at me. I smiled back, still exploding with joy.
"I love you, Noah."
"Looo!"


Marina Reid