Imagery:
As his rapid breathing slowed and as his heartbeat decelerated, he abruptly realized that he did not know who he was.
"Candy slept all day in the front bedroom that had once been his mother's, breathing in her special scent. Two or three times a week, he carefully shook a few drops of her favorite perfume—Chanel No. 5—onto a white, lace-trimmed handkerchief, which he kept on the dresser beside her silver comb-and-brush set, so each breath he took in the room reminded him of her. Occasionally he half woke from slumber to readjust the pillows or pull the covers more tightly around him, and the trace of perfume always lulled him as if it were a tranquilizer; each time he happily drifted back into his dreams."
The Bad Place