Today's OneWord: Incense

I remembered the smell of incense from my days as a good Catholic girl. The altar server would saunter down the aisle, a limp in his step, and swing the burning bowl about on its chain. My mom would complain, sometimes loudly, about the odor, though not in a verbal way; she would wrinkle her nose and cough just so the priest could give her a look, and she would smile sweetly as if she had done nothing to perturb the Mass at all.