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Cheeky flower
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That cheeky Bella, she's stolen the doll again! As if stung by a tarantula, Else dashes after the dog, across the gallery and down the stairs. The beech wood of the time-honored staircase creaks with every jump in protest at so much outrageous behavior.
Until a few moments ago, the dining room and the drawing room had lapsed into a sedate midday calm, letting the spring sun shine through their high windows onto the reddish-brown checkerboard parquet, when Bella comes running in with the doll in her mouth. Her long golden fur flashed in the rays of light. "Over here, Bella, now!" the girl shrieks. The noise has woken the other residents deep inside the house and a rumbling can be heard, but Else is not to be dissuaded.
Bella sprints through the drawing room onto the terrace and down the curved staircase with the tendril railing. Else rushes after her, her white dress gets caught on a bucket, which the oleander only survives by a hair's breadth. Bella runs across the large meadow and straight into the bed with the tall, white and yellow flowering shrubs, Else at her heels. She tries to grab the dog by the tail, stumbles and falls rolling into the bushes. Bella declares the game of catch over and proceeds to jump on Else, rolling around in the bushes until they are both a ball of yellow and white.
"ELSE!" her mother shouts determinedly, who has set up on the terrace, the midday sun casting harsh shadows on her face. Bella lets go of Else and the little doll and trots calmly back into the house. The girl has barely recovered when her mother's gaze hits her like a dagger, sliding up and down her body. Else looks down at herself, her white dress is covered in dirt, her socks and shoes are dirty too. "How you look again," says her mother's silent gaze, "what were you thinking?" and her latest rebuke: "You can't play with dolls at 14!" Elsa should become a lady one day, but certainly not today.
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The flower hits you in the nose with all its might right at the beginning. Inside is what it says on the tin! Underneath it is something subtly woody, but more a premonition than a fact. It develops slightly powdery, but remains true to its promise and the start all in all.
For me a simple fragrance, without a lot of frills, reminds me of the anticipation of summer and a carefree time. The silage is average, only the durability on my skin is rather low. The bloom fades as surprisingly as it came. Memento mori.
That cheeky Bella, she's stolen the doll again! As if stung by a tarantula, Else dashes after the dog, across the gallery and down the stairs. The beech wood of the time-honored staircase creaks with every jump in protest at so much outrageous behavior.
Until a few moments ago, the dining room and the drawing room had lapsed into a sedate midday calm, letting the spring sun shine through their high windows onto the reddish-brown checkerboard parquet, when Bella comes running in with the doll in her mouth. Her long golden fur flashed in the rays of light. "Over here, Bella, now!" the girl shrieks. The noise has woken the other residents deep inside the house and a rumbling can be heard, but Else is not to be dissuaded.
Bella sprints through the drawing room onto the terrace and down the curved staircase with the tendril railing. Else rushes after her, her white dress gets caught on a bucket, which the oleander only survives by a hair's breadth. Bella runs across the large meadow and straight into the bed with the tall, white and yellow flowering shrubs, Else at her heels. She tries to grab the dog by the tail, stumbles and falls rolling into the bushes. Bella declares the game of catch over and proceeds to jump on Else, rolling around in the bushes until they are both a ball of yellow and white.
"ELSE!" her mother shouts determinedly, who has set up on the terrace, the midday sun casting harsh shadows on her face. Bella lets go of Else and the little doll and trots calmly back into the house. The girl has barely recovered when her mother's gaze hits her like a dagger, sliding up and down her body. Else looks down at herself, her white dress is covered in dirt, her socks and shoes are dirty too. "How you look again," says her mother's silent gaze, "what were you thinking?" and her latest rebuke: "You can't play with dolls at 14!" Elsa should become a lady one day, but certainly not today.
-
The flower hits you in the nose with all its might right at the beginning. Inside is what it says on the tin! Underneath it is something subtly woody, but more a premonition than a fact. It develops slightly powdery, but remains true to its promise and the start all in all.
For me a simple fragrance, without a lot of frills, reminds me of the anticipation of summer and a carefree time. The silage is average, only the durability on my skin is rather low. The bloom fades as surprisingly as it came. Memento mori.
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