While searching through storage I rediscover an old obsession. As a boy my strong sense of smell lead me to collect essential oils and to mix them into my own combinations.
In an old chest I find the vials from my last experiment with perfumes which dates back to 1996. Several years ago, a friend named Michelle introduced me to Jean-Baptiste Grenouille through the 2006 film Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. His story is compelling; our obsession is the same, though my methods aren’t extreme.
One of the vials I find is half full. The mixture is quite potent; hours later I cannot forget it. It’s on my hands; in my skin. Is this the reason I locked it away 20 years ago?
It is 2016, I wonder if I should…