The perfumes in the apothecary held the old world medicinal charm, the soothing aromas to quiet the soul and let the healing begin.
It was a perfume of the summertime, of warm days and warm spices. I could have settled into its fragrance as willingly as the cat curls up in sunny rays.
It was a perfume of the sea air, perhaps some would place it as more of a cologne; yet to me the ocean is mother and when I bathed in that fresh aroma I became a bird on lofty breeze, carried over any cliff with ease.
In those perfumes were the aromas of a million floral blooms, or at least that is how my imagination pictured them. I saw their vibrant hues in the most gleeful of wayward breezes, dancing, giving of their fragrance to the advanced summer air.
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