- recorded
- caloundra, december
- batch
- 001 · holding
- conc.
- 40% · extrait de parfum
- vol.
- 50 ml
- decanted
M—013
166bottles in batch 001.
that's all of them.
or hold one from batch 001 · $20 see q. 05.2
macerated six weeks before it ships. see q. 03.3
Two doors down, I could hear all of it: the music, the laughing, someone telling the same story twice, louder the second time. I poured a drink my dad swore by and took it out to the balcony. The ice cracked. The night stayed warm. Somebody over there was smoking, and around midnight someone was still making coffee, which nobody does at that hour. I wasn't invited. I never found out whose place it was.
Dark roast gone slightly past it. Whisky on someone's breath at close range. Smoke drifting over a fence in the dark. It's warmer and rougher than it sounds, and it doesn't tidy up after itself.
the composition
M—013
main accords
notes
on skin
wearthe loud one · two sprays maximum
from the box
caloundra, december.the week between christmas and new year,when nobody knows what day it is.two doors down, the lights went up around eight.i could hear the music, the laughing,someone telling the same story twice.i poured a drink my dad swore byand took it out to the balcony.the ice cracked. the night stayed warm.i wasn't invited, and i didn't really mind.someone was still making coffee at midnight.this is the whisky on the railingand the smoke over the fence,from a party i could hear,but never went to.
M—019
166bottles in batch 001.
that's all of them.
or hold one from batch 001 · $20 see q. 05.2
macerated six weeks before it ships. see q. 03.3
I had a feeling that night would be different. Nothing was planned and nobody had said anything, I just had the feeling. So I stayed in. I heated milk in a saucepan, left my phone face up on the dresser and got under the blanket. I checked it more times than I'd like to admit. Of course, it never rang. The milk went lukewarm in the mug next to the lamp, and it was a good night anyway. That's the part I still think about.
It smells like warm milk left in a cup. The inside of a wardrobe nobody's opened since someone's grandmother shut it. A lamp left on in the next room. Soft, a bit close, and faintly like something you'd be embarrassed to be caught enjoying.
the composition
M—019
main accords
notes
on skin
wearsits close to skin · lasts 6–7 hrs
from the box
sandgate, june.i had a feeling that tonight would be differentinstead i stayed in, made something warm.left my phone face up on the dresserand checked it more times than i'd like to admit.of course, it never rang.this is the blanket, and the warm milki had instead.
M—017
166bottles in batch 001.
that's all of them.
or hold one from batch 001 · $20 see q. 05.2
macerated six weeks before it ships. see q. 03.3
The barge leaves from Inskip Point, which isn't a place so much as a sandy corner where the road stops. Cars queue in two ruts. There's no shop and nowhere to sit, and the only shade is a stand of gums and she-oaks at the edge of the track. In January the sand is hot enough that you can't stand on it barefoot for longer than about four seconds.
Salt air thick enough to taste, and gum leaves going soft in the heat. Driftwood bleached dry. Sunscreen on the back of a hand. Not a beach in the holiday sense. A beach at thirty-four degrees with one patch of shade.
the composition
M—017
main accords
notes
on skin
wearopens sharp · settles in ~20 min
from the box
k'gari, january.as usual, dad wanted us to leave before sunrise.we got to the point too earlyand the barge was nowhere in sight.nothing to do but wait.the sand was too hot to stand on,the wind was hot too,and the air was so thick with saltyou could taste it.someone found shade under the gums.i sound annoyed, but nobody minded that it was late.this is the salt on your skinand the gum leaves in the heat,before anyone boarded.



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