Fresh flowers from the overgrown garden, unevenly cut but carefully arranged in the Swarovski glass vase he had bought her for their second anniversary; caring for their aging cat; Thai food quickly delivered from a favorite restaurant--bag held toward him at the open front door by an acne-faced teen who thankfully didn't expect conversation or eye contact. Oh yes, there were a few things he did somewhat enjoy, a very few things such as those.
This though...this was different. So unexpected. So perfect. Who could have sent it? And when? He couldn't remember.
He stood staring at the sealed, tattered box he held in his hands. He stared thoughtfully at it through tired and rheumy eyes. Without a note or return address of any kind he would have to guess..
"My God," he mumbled, rereading the label, "Paco Rabanne La Nuit." Instantly it was 20 years ago, he was with her.. how insanely beautiful she looked.. how wonderful it was to bury his face into her neck, drawing her close to him, intoxicated by the La Nuit, the soft feel of her on his lips, the taste of her on his tongue.. So many years ...so many years!. He shut his eyes, letting warm tears slide untouched down his cheeks. He stood there, eyes closed, recalling how this hollow house had been so deliciously full of her, especially when she wore this scent. He was convinced then and he was convinced now that fragrance must had been made specifically for her, only for her, made for her alone and for no one else.
He placed the unopened box carefully back on the end table, exactly into the dust-free rectangle, almost but not quite touching her picture with the tips of his fingers as he withdrew them. Glancing vacantly out the window, he flowed gently past oak trees that danced seductively for the summer wind, over rhythmically swaying seas of golden meadow grass, and finally, mercifully, his mind slipped for a moment beyond remembering this excruciating and never-ending life without her.
Later he would certainly open it and allow himself to be swept away, he thought. He would imagine he was holding her close once more. Holding her close and breathing in the dark intensity of the La Nuit. Pulling her close to him and temporarily filling his emptiness with the bittersweet narcotic of her memory.
Yes, later he definitely would open it, not remembering he had told himself this a hundred times before. But for now a very weary old man shuffled toward the kitchen to feed a very old cat.
__________________________________________________ ________________________________________
Paco Rabanne La Nuit later today, definitely unisex and definitely a powerful statement.
This though...this was different. So unexpected. So perfect. Who could have sent it? And when? He couldn't remember.
He stood staring at the sealed, tattered box he held in his hands. He stared thoughtfully at it through tired and rheumy eyes. Without a note or return address of any kind he would have to guess..
"My God," he mumbled, rereading the label, "Paco Rabanne La Nuit." Instantly it was 20 years ago, he was with her.. how insanely beautiful she looked.. how wonderful it was to bury his face into her neck, drawing her close to him, intoxicated by the La Nuit, the soft feel of her on his lips, the taste of her on his tongue.. So many years ...so many years!. He shut his eyes, letting warm tears slide untouched down his cheeks. He stood there, eyes closed, recalling how this hollow house had been so deliciously full of her, especially when she wore this scent. He was convinced then and he was convinced now that fragrance must had been made specifically for her, only for her, made for her alone and for no one else.
He placed the unopened box carefully back on the end table, exactly into the dust-free rectangle, almost but not quite touching her picture with the tips of his fingers as he withdrew them. Glancing vacantly out the window, he flowed gently past oak trees that danced seductively for the summer wind, over rhythmically swaying seas of golden meadow grass, and finally, mercifully, his mind slipped for a moment beyond remembering this excruciating and never-ending life without her.
Later he would certainly open it and allow himself to be swept away, he thought. He would imagine he was holding her close once more. Holding her close and breathing in the dark intensity of the La Nuit. Pulling her close to him and temporarily filling his emptiness with the bittersweet narcotic of her memory.
Yes, later he definitely would open it, not remembering he had told himself this a hundred times before. But for now a very weary old man shuffled toward the kitchen to feed a very old cat.
__________________________________________________ ________________________________________
Paco Rabanne La Nuit later today, definitely unisex and definitely a powerful statement.
.
.My sote (and to celebrate my bf's birthday on monday)is Crystal Noir edt +bodylotion.I got a nice silage now
Hope you´ll like it here, we have lotsa fun! 
