Part 1 of a story I wrote based on my experiences.
The apartment door opens, and a familiar smell fills the air. It wasn't the kind of smell that welcomed her when she first moved to America. Her first roommate was another Saudi girl. From the same city Nabila was from, Riyadh. A young woman that attended a nearby school, NYU. When Yasmine came to the US, she developed a keen interest in cooking different kinds of foods. Corn tortillas filled with sliced chicken coated in cumin, dark chili powder and salt, topped with Pico de Gallo, avocado, and cilantro and served with fried sweet plantain. Or steaks fried in homemade maple garlic butter and fresh sprigs of lemon thyme. Or rice served in a stone bowl and topped with spiced ground beef, boiled spinach and bean sprouts coated in garlic, oil and salt, and served with a gojuchang based sauce.
It was always something new. Now, though, now the smell is consistent and… Unpleasant. It was the smell of skunk. Her new roommate and her boyfriend smoked every day. They were nice people, of course, she just missed the daily, delicious meals. Maybe I should learn to cook instead of sulking