I made sure my Escada Desire Me perfume would waft as my abaya trailed me. I left the fitting room, an arm full of new threads to be purchased, the other tired of a burden called my new Anya Hindmarch handbag.
Strolling to the cashier, the Escada perfume I generously showered in was replaced with that of a spicy, woody, oud scent... too manly to be ignored.
Thank God for YSL.
The cloud of scent moved closer...
I was lost in dream of warm sunsets, of rays of the orange sun piercing through the sheer veils sealing my tent... My lover hypnotising me with oud-kissed sinlets... Our laughter rattles the tent as our eyelashes tangle, weaving eternal love and pure joy.
My lips curled in a develish smile as I twisted my craned neck over my shoulder...only to glimpse a figure wrapped in Arabic whitness strutting towards the exit.
He left...but his scent shall inhibit me forever...
