But death was here, in a form and with a smell I did not know.

The one with the bad smell coming out of it.

My beautiful young father, in love with the smell of books.

The air was heavy with the smell of the sea.

I could turn and go back to the house with the smell of death heavy in it.

The others are not happy with the noise and smell.

And she would absolutely never be associated with a smell like that one outside.

The kitchen was filled with the smell of the food.

The air was filled with the fresh smell of spring.

The air came alive again, filled with the smell of growing things.