He closed his eyes and was transported to another place. This place was colored in hues of green with smokey over tones. If felt damp and warm to his sinus, but his tongue detected honey. Yes, it was honey. The honey began singing and slowly the green brightened and blossomed. Lavenders, mustards, and clumps of alfalfa appeared out of nowhere, with an intensity that almost brought on a sneeze. He turned away and his mouth began to moisten. Soon he was salivating, as his mind opened upon fields of ripening lemons, limes, and blood oranges. The last thing he tasted, as he walked out the door, was the puckery clean scent of the face soap his mother used to wash with every night before going to bed. He’d been given the opportunity to find out if that soap helped with vocabulary more than once. He would say, indubitably, it did not.