I thought of the exercised and relaxed body stretched out in her bed, clean body in clean sheets, smelling of chlorine and water and cleanliness, and I was deeply stirred.

The bed smelled as if the straw hadn't been changed in twenty years.

His hot bed smelled like a mushroom cellar.

His bed still smelled of Annie, and he was grateful for that much, at least, as he tossed and turned and tried to get to sleep.

The bed smelled of aged leather and linens that needed to be aired.

The night before his wife died, he told her that their bed smelled of death and he associated it with the camphor in her new night cream.

The bed still smelled of her.

The bed smelled as if someone had peed in it.

The bed smelled of age.