(Photo stolen from these guys)
Hello, I am the Senses Taker.* It's time to check your senses. Check your sensitivity at the door. Sense, not Sensibility. Y'know? You have five of 'em. Six, if you're a cop, a woman or Haley Joel Osment, who sees dead people, and somehow seeing is counted twice?
Ahem, pardon me. Back on track now. Get up and open a window or door, if you can.
What do you see?
What do you hear?
What do you smell?
What do you feel?
What do you taste?
Note the time and post it in the comments.
Consider your senses taken. Now why can't the government get it done this easily?
* * * * *
I don't see a lot, because the moon won't come up for hours. I see a few stars, but the humidity of the evening has blocked all but the gaudiest stars from sight.
I hear frogs and crickets. I heard cats fighting earlier, but that's no surprise.
I smell the pungent, sickly-sweet smell of irrigated fields. I smell orange blossoms from my old yard across the street when the breeze stirs a little.
I feel the last vestiges of cold spring nights. Soon we'll sweat all night long and dream of chilly April evenings.
I taste cheap red wine.
It is now 10:05 p.m. Your turn.
*I must acknowledge Norton Juster in his book The Phantom Tollbooth for the origin of the name of this character.