Balsamic notes
Fruity notes
Woody notes
Malayan oud
Musky notes
Vetiver
Citrus notes
Micadrko
9 Reviews
Translated · Show original
Micadrko
6
Grandfather and Grandmother
December 1982, on the cold, snow-covered streets of Nicolais.
As a woman with 2 children aged 14 and 3 received the long-awaited yet equally dreaded letter that the time had come.
Wearing the warmest clothes the family could muster.
Scented with roses and fruits to maintain the appearance of a lady.
Hidden in the diaper of the sleeping child was everything she held dear.
Always firmly grasping her husband's wooden pipe, which reminded her of him and his scent.
The trembling of fear concealed under the cold of the Eastern Bloc, with the hope in her heart that they carried together through the night.
The air smelled of smoke and soot from the long-unused pipe, from its dark brown, lacquered oak body. Mixed with Grandma's scent of roses and fruits in a perfect symbiosis that slowly faded into an image.
Safely arrived in the first puff, she pulled out a picture from her jacket pocket, a picture whose significance was so great…
One could smell the yellowed old paper and the scent of vanilla tobacco that had settled in it, leaving a hint of amber and vanilla in the carriage.
She closed her eyes, thought of Grandpa, of the picture of her family, firmly holding her children's hands in her own, with the words of the priest, the words of the father, and the words of the son in her memory, she fell asleep….
As a woman with 2 children aged 14 and 3 received the long-awaited yet equally dreaded letter that the time had come.
Wearing the warmest clothes the family could muster.
Scented with roses and fruits to maintain the appearance of a lady.
Hidden in the diaper of the sleeping child was everything she held dear.
Always firmly grasping her husband's wooden pipe, which reminded her of him and his scent.
The trembling of fear concealed under the cold of the Eastern Bloc, with the hope in her heart that they carried together through the night.
The air smelled of smoke and soot from the long-unused pipe, from its dark brown, lacquered oak body. Mixed with Grandma's scent of roses and fruits in a perfect symbiosis that slowly faded into an image.
Safely arrived in the first puff, she pulled out a picture from her jacket pocket, a picture whose significance was so great…
One could smell the yellowed old paper and the scent of vanilla tobacco that had settled in it, leaving a hint of amber and vanilla in the carriage.
She closed her eyes, thought of Grandpa, of the picture of her family, firmly holding her children's hands in her own, with the words of the priest, the words of the father, and the words of the son in her memory, she fell asleep….
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