Chaparral
Cypress
Cypriol
Labdanum
Bloodxclat
34 Reviews
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Bloodxclat
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Shango and the Vacation
Vacation. Shango wanted to take a vacation. He was satisfied with himself, with the work in the garage - he felt he deserved to escape the humid heat and the hordes of mosquitoes that populated his home by the swamp. Right - visit Neal. Neal, the hammer-throwing, crazy, good old Neal. Rocksprings, Texas. Twelve hours drive. Hot too, but not as humid as by the swamp. Shango packed his things and got into his yellow Thunderbird.
Twelve hours later. The Riverspring campsite was at the end of the village. He passed the barrier and walked to a crooked little house with a corrugated iron roof. "Hello reception?"
A young Mexican woman popped her gum. "Mhhh? Good afternoon, Mister. Are you Shango?" Shango nodded affirmatively. Neal had probably announced him.
"Here’s the map to the exit. Neal's trailer is at the back right. Colorful. Lots of colors. Towards the desert."
She smiled as she handed Shango the map and a chewy candy.
He returned to his Thunderbird, absentmindedly putting the candy between his teeth. "Back right. There’s only one way here."
The trailer was unmistakable. An old, very large caravan. A painted eye stared at Shango. The iris in rainbow colors. It began to fluoresce. Shango shook his head and walked on, knocking on the door of the trailer. No one answered. He sat down on the green bench in front of the trailer. How thirsty he was. Luckily, he had brought enough orange soda with him. His own orange soda. Bought himself. No more from Neal. No, he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Never again. (Story --> "Lampblack | Fzotic / Bruno Fazzolari")
Suddenly, a strong scent of mandarins filled his nose. Burst, ripe mandarins. He looked around as green limes grew at record speed on the gnarled creosote bush facing him, PLOPP PLOPP PLOPP. Fist-sized things! Damn it! Amazed, he rubbed his eyes. The limes burst, one after the other. Where the bitter citrus juice sprayed, the dry sandy ground vanished into nothingness, and in seconds, a juicy, green cypress grew straight up from the ground. Fascinating. Shango poured his orange soda into the sand and mumbled incomprehensibly. A wind arose, mixing the bitter sharp scents of the Hesperides with the green plant sap of the cypresses.
Shango walked to a wide hole in the ground. Neal must have started digging a pool.
He was just about to start shoveling when green tips of grass emerged from the loose soil. Before his eyes, the things sprouted like in fast motion from the ground. "Nag, Nag, Nagar... that can't be....!" A spicy-sharp aroma rushed towards him, smoky and bitter at the same time, vegetal and earthy. From the grass blades, leaves formed that hung down like palm leaves. From the center of the plant, flowers exploded, star-shaped like a citrus fireworks display, and before Shango's eyes, it turned white, and he realized he was tipping forward into the hole.
Shango fell softly, herbaceous earthy roots caught him and gently pulled him into the Texan soil. Warm, soft, and comforting scents welcomed his nose, he swam through amber earth, inhaling sweet gray clouds of incense until he got stuck in the sticky, resinous black labdanum. From the labdanum veil, a thousand creosote leaves waved at him, and he waved back, laughing and celebrating. A huge yellow creosote flower whispered something into his ear with green tea breath that sounded like "angosuvehückte UUUND." Roots grabbed him, and he vanished from the incense and the creosote tea.
"You crazy dog! Shango, dammit, if that isn’t my swamp-Shango!!" Neal shouted in his ear as he shook him incessantly and patted the dirt off his back. "What the hell did you do in my pool?" and he let out his booming laughter.
Shango rubbed the sand from his eyes and discovered the young Mexican woman from the reception behind Neal. "My girl here is called Flora! Already met her, right? She has a weakness for chewy candies..." and Neal's laughter rang out again, and everything became crystal clear to Shango.
--
Sigil Scent is a small artisanal company from California / USA that produces its fragrances from 100% botanicals. Patrick Kelly is the nose behind Sigil Scent. The fragrances are available in many US shops, as well as in GB and Italy. Sampler sets can also be purchased.
Twelve hours later. The Riverspring campsite was at the end of the village. He passed the barrier and walked to a crooked little house with a corrugated iron roof. "Hello reception?"
A young Mexican woman popped her gum. "Mhhh? Good afternoon, Mister. Are you Shango?" Shango nodded affirmatively. Neal had probably announced him.
"Here’s the map to the exit. Neal's trailer is at the back right. Colorful. Lots of colors. Towards the desert."
She smiled as she handed Shango the map and a chewy candy.
He returned to his Thunderbird, absentmindedly putting the candy between his teeth. "Back right. There’s only one way here."
The trailer was unmistakable. An old, very large caravan. A painted eye stared at Shango. The iris in rainbow colors. It began to fluoresce. Shango shook his head and walked on, knocking on the door of the trailer. No one answered. He sat down on the green bench in front of the trailer. How thirsty he was. Luckily, he had brought enough orange soda with him. His own orange soda. Bought himself. No more from Neal. No, he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Never again. (Story --> "Lampblack | Fzotic / Bruno Fazzolari")
Suddenly, a strong scent of mandarins filled his nose. Burst, ripe mandarins. He looked around as green limes grew at record speed on the gnarled creosote bush facing him, PLOPP PLOPP PLOPP. Fist-sized things! Damn it! Amazed, he rubbed his eyes. The limes burst, one after the other. Where the bitter citrus juice sprayed, the dry sandy ground vanished into nothingness, and in seconds, a juicy, green cypress grew straight up from the ground. Fascinating. Shango poured his orange soda into the sand and mumbled incomprehensibly. A wind arose, mixing the bitter sharp scents of the Hesperides with the green plant sap of the cypresses.
Shango walked to a wide hole in the ground. Neal must have started digging a pool.
He was just about to start shoveling when green tips of grass emerged from the loose soil. Before his eyes, the things sprouted like in fast motion from the ground. "Nag, Nag, Nagar... that can't be....!" A spicy-sharp aroma rushed towards him, smoky and bitter at the same time, vegetal and earthy. From the grass blades, leaves formed that hung down like palm leaves. From the center of the plant, flowers exploded, star-shaped like a citrus fireworks display, and before Shango's eyes, it turned white, and he realized he was tipping forward into the hole.
Shango fell softly, herbaceous earthy roots caught him and gently pulled him into the Texan soil. Warm, soft, and comforting scents welcomed his nose, he swam through amber earth, inhaling sweet gray clouds of incense until he got stuck in the sticky, resinous black labdanum. From the labdanum veil, a thousand creosote leaves waved at him, and he waved back, laughing and celebrating. A huge yellow creosote flower whispered something into his ear with green tea breath that sounded like "angosuvehückte UUUND." Roots grabbed him, and he vanished from the incense and the creosote tea.
"You crazy dog! Shango, dammit, if that isn’t my swamp-Shango!!" Neal shouted in his ear as he shook him incessantly and patted the dirt off his back. "What the hell did you do in my pool?" and he let out his booming laughter.
Shango rubbed the sand from his eyes and discovered the young Mexican woman from the reception behind Neal. "My girl here is called Flora! Already met her, right? She has a weakness for chewy candies..." and Neal's laughter rang out again, and everything became crystal clear to Shango.
--
Sigil Scent is a small artisanal company from California / USA that produces its fragrances from 100% botanicals. Patrick Kelly is the nose behind Sigil Scent. The fragrances are available in many US shops, as well as in GB and Italy. Sampler sets can also be purchased.
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