the days are getting shorter as spring leaves, letting autumn bring its chill. pre-dawn is cold and the streets are bare, spotlit by ghostly-absent lights. the perfume of a wood-fire accompanies me home where hot food waits.
there's a bespoke bottle of perfume on my dressing table, unremarkable glass bottle all but blending into the wall behind it. i designed it a while ago, trying to pick out the various notes and fragrances that i felt best suited you; the ones that best reminded me of you, to be used when you… Continue reading necessity, 1.1 (150)