Writer's Block: Scents and sensibility

Nothing like the smell of napalm in the morning, he thought, quoting some old sage from the bushfire era on Earth. 'Course, out in vacuum the only thing you smelled was your own piss and sweat--and vomit, sometimes, when it was particularly bad. He'd heard stories how only the real hard-cases survived the first few wars because no bright spark had thought to put in a way to vacuum out the vomit, so men would choke on it and die if they were the sensitive type, or they'd go to trying to get their helmet off, which sometimes was okay and sometimes would pop your eyeballs inside out.


Inspiration: LJ writer's prompt
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: This isn't a story idea, but it's a nice bit of character/setting.