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Cigar Lounge
I'm all drunk.
My first impression from the sample. Sharp and biting. A freshly cracked peppercorn. Nutmeg + sledgehammer.
Suddenly something floral, a flash in the passing fast train.
Within seconds, fresh whiskey distillate matures under my nose for 25 years in oak barrels.
I see dark, wooden bar counters, handsome men in their prime in expensive suits sitting in even more expensive lounge furniture, with fat cigars, enjoying good drops while talking business and their handicaps.
A black Steinberg in the background, playing smooth and slow. Wisps of smoke billow outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the Thames in foggy, rainy London. Outside, grey-blue twilight, the drops of rain beading down the panes.... inside, golden glow. Amber embers in lead crystal ashtrays.
Wooden floor.
Lots of wood. Resinous wood. Tropical woods soaked in oil. Balsamic wraps around your finger. The accords penetrate my every pore. I would want to smell this scent on my favorite man....
My first impression from the sample. Sharp and biting. A freshly cracked peppercorn. Nutmeg + sledgehammer.
Suddenly something floral, a flash in the passing fast train.
Within seconds, fresh whiskey distillate matures under my nose for 25 years in oak barrels.
I see dark, wooden bar counters, handsome men in their prime in expensive suits sitting in even more expensive lounge furniture, with fat cigars, enjoying good drops while talking business and their handicaps.
A black Steinberg in the background, playing smooth and slow. Wisps of smoke billow outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the Thames in foggy, rainy London. Outside, grey-blue twilight, the drops of rain beading down the panes.... inside, golden glow. Amber embers in lead crystal ashtrays.
Wooden floor.
Lots of wood. Resinous wood. Tropical woods soaked in oil. Balsamic wraps around your finger. The accords penetrate my every pore. I would want to smell this scent on my favorite man....
KaliP
