White Smoke Perfumer H 2019

They stand exhausted at the edge of the volcano. Staring into the gray depths that strangely pull at them. Searching for red, longing for a rumble, looking into each other's eyes, which are already feverish in anticipation of fear. Holding hands, breathing dusty air, smoky, mineral, taking a step back, looking around to see if anyone is coming, if anyone is talking, finally alone with the depth that seems so comforting and it is so quiet around them, where just a moment ago a storm arose in them, they wanted to confront the fear, overcome something they don't know what it actually is. The moment has to be meaningful, tear something open inside them and then heal, yes, they are looking for someone to tell them that they are here and that it can be good, they are waiting for it like children. The wind picks up, shakes their legs, the abyss doesn't want them, pushes them back and they say with relief that it's time to descend.