sunny sunday
I hadn’t worn perfume in a long time. I purchased maybe too many perfume samples last year, determined to indulge in one thing that brought me delight. I’d gone through all but two of them, and inexplicably fell into monotony. Everything felt like too much of a bother: tying my hair when it fell across my face, reaching for clothes that weren’t too large or in a shade of grey, putting on sunscreen when it was 29°C. I had not only lost the will—I felt bereft of delight, and I was too tired to reach for it.
Today, I opened my drawer and forced myself to try one of the last two samples. The sunlit fragrance of flowers, wood, and citrus was the start of an unfurling, something that had been compressed for months finally permitted to be.