The shady existence of Hermann:)
This Hermann is a little fruit!
He hates everything vulgar and loves the opposite of it: instead of bright skies and sunny nights and cool shadows; instead of exuberant laughter-silent mourning, instead of flower meadows-moist, black earth covered with ivy... He is just an original, a romantic of the old school.
And he also smells to match his macabre disposition: I notice a load of cool mint, gothic medical patchouli and incense again and again when I stroll with him in the shady avenues of an old Gothic complex. Yes, he himself, with his pale complexion, his sunken eyes, his thin stature and dark clothes seems to me like a shadow among many other shadows in this eerie avenue : like a shadow from the underworld, like a ghost.
Its dark, cool, fresh presence is constant and long-lasting. I smell its macabre scent for hours until the evening falls. It hangs on my clothes, shines like a dark, mysterious aura around me.
Its scent is macabre and beautiful at the same time: a cool, lonely, meditative shadow in the flickering heat of summer.