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The London Fog
A magnificent mansion, inside the wood-paneled library, old bookshelves house old and new paper. A fresh bouquet of flowers beside the comfortable leather armchair. An elegant woman (or man?) in the finest cashmere has settled down in it, reading intently the politics section of the weekly paper, a smoking cigar in her slender hand. The maid flits in, asks for afternoon tea. Earl Grey and cinnamon biscuits are served. Quickly they leave for London, for a confidential meeting with the Saudi ambassador. Fog outside, hot discussion inside. He sweats, she senses his oud. He threatens to leave, she responds with passionate kiss.
A fragrance as I imagine him on a strong, worldly and sophisticated person.
A fragrance as I imagine him on a strong, worldly and sophisticated person.
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