Osmophobia. Chapter 1. Alone. Jade liked the
city before it awoke. Early mornings were kinder.
The sidewalks hadn't filled yet. The buses still
sighed instead of groaned, and the air belonged
to no one in particular. At this hour, the city
didn't stare. She crossed the street with her
phone in her hand, screen glowing faintly against
the gray of dawn. She wasn't reading anything.
just swiping randomly through Capclaw. The soft
glow of her phone was a sanctuary, a polite excuse
to keep her eyes down and her thoughts, well,
elsewhere. It was easier than watching random
faces do that thing when eyes squint and the
jaw tightens. Hate that. Emerald Park was just
up ahead. It was a lush green heart of coziness,
surrounded by the cold steel and concrete of
the city. The moment Jade stepped into the park,
her posture visibly relaxed. Just a little. Open
air. Trees. Distance. Space for scent to thin
out and behave itself instead of hovering around
her like a smelly ghost. Or, well, maybe a putrid
phantom. Or, no, no. A belching banshee? Or,
well, you know. The park didn't care. That alone
made it better. She followed the same path she
does every morning. Routine mattered. It was
nice to have structure. The bridge over the pond
was like something out of a fairy tale. Gray
stone with age, softened by years of footsteps
and weather. Her bench waited on the far side.
Jade sat and crossed one leg over the other.
Her large, flowing tail wrapped around her legs
gracefully. She lounged like it was her own couch
in her apartment. No one was around. No one would
be looking at her anyway. This was her safe space.
She scrolled through her phone lazily, a video
of some guy getting his face stuck on a plunger.
Messages she'd already read, reminders to work
out she ignored hours ago. Jade sighed as her
tail twitched and swayed. A cheetah jogged past.
His eyes grew wide as he slowed just a fraction
before veering wider than necessary. Some lynx
guy in a blue peacoat turned the corner, spotted
her, and awkwardly turned the other direction.
Jade pretended not to notice. Being the only
skunk in a city full of judgmental did that to
you. You became very good at pretending. Even
better at ignoring. A master of knowing exactly
how much space to give someone so they wouldn't
have to ask. Ten feet was good. Not showing up
was even better. A cool breeze drifted over the
pond, sending ripples cascading over the water.
Jade closed her eyes and tilted her face toward
the wind. She could smell the grass, crisp air,
and a hint of herself, who, despite everyone's
expectations, smelled of roses. Jade kept herself
incredibly clean. She kept her fur exquisitely
pristine. Plus, it didn't hurt that the shower
was another of her safe spaces. She stretched
her arms to the sky and arched her back with
a groan. While her hands were sky high, she started
playing with the bracelet on her left arm. Thin
leather cord, dark green jade charm that clicked
softly as she moved. She got it from her mother.
It was familiar. It was safe. Jade leaned back
against the bench and listened, the breeze swaying
the nearby branches, the distant hum of traffic,
someone laughing far enough away that it didn't
feel directed at her. She checked the time. Ten
minutes. Plenty. Generous, even. Jade stood,
brushing off her shorts. and took one last look
at the pristine pond. She liked to leave before
the day started, before the park filled, before
the mood changed to prejudice. She walked away,
eyes trained on her phone. On the bench, unnoticed,
her bracelet lay where it had slipped from her
wrist, the jade charm catching the golden morning
light as the breeze stirred. This has been Osmophobia.
The story continues.