Hands on her thighs, Emily took a deep, ragged breath, drawing in the familiar aroma of peppermint and spearmint. Another scent crept in, strange and fetid. A smell that didn’t belong.
Frowning, Emily opened her eyes. She looked towards the tall, rough rock wall that separated her garden from the wilds of Graemforth Park. Gifted to the city long ago, it’d been sealed three years back after a series of unexplained wolf attacks. Unexplained, as there were no wolves in the city.
An itch began on one earlobe, and she tugged at her silver earring in annoyance.
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: earring, park, spearmint)