Fiery Fig 24.05

The dirt road is bumpy, glowing red in the fiery sunset. The truck lumbers through Mediterranean farmland, kicking up dust at every turn. You put your hand out the passenger window, experiencing the dry heat of summer and the rich smell of figs. Pulling into the grove, you fill your mouth with sticky figs. The driver takes you by the hand and you start running towards the sounds of laughter and music. There are flamenco guitars, dancing, milky cocktails. You spin around and around until the colours of the crowd swirl into infinity.

Perfumer: Joëlle Lerioux Patris