Orange, Bergamot, Neroli, Benzoin, Styrax, Resins, Musk
The Short Story
Dry citrus in a wooden box.
The Long Story
Umberto was sitting at his wooden desk peering through the half open French window. The noise from the busy Calle de Serrano was trickling through the crack along with the bright rays of sun.
It was mid morning on the day after his 65th birthday and Umberto was already bored with the day. He had no particular plans, no particular place to be, no particular things to do. Therefore, he just sat at his desk looking out of the window the throngs of people chattering and mulling around.
Umberto propped his chin on his palm and thought of lunch. Maybe he could stroll down to O Mamma Mia and get a slice of pizza with some red wine. He wasn’t a regular there but the owner knew him. He was one of the few distinguished gentlemen to stop by for a quick bite that took no less than a couple of hours.
What made Umberto stand out was his presence of nonchalant elegance exuberating from his vintage coat, wide open shirt and characteristic smell of citrus and resin.
The latter formed sort of an aura around Umberto, which slowly developed throughout the day. In the morning when he first applied a few sprays on his chest, bright citrus filled up the room. This wasn’t the kind of citrus the young men would wear – happy and fleeting, the kind that makes you want to skip. The citrus in Umberto’s Kobe was heavier, weighed down, as if full of a lifetime of experiences, memories, unforgettable moments of happiness and past regrets.
As Umberto was going through his regular morning routine – boiling his two eggs and sipping his bitter coffee – the dry citrus was slowly turning into a dry resinous wood. The sharp notes of the citrus were still lingering around but dry woods filled up the air around Umberto.
He knew each stage of his fragrance by heart and the one where the dry woody notes emerged was his favourite. It reminded him of the smell of the dry wooden box his grandpa gave him as a kid. It was a gift for his 7th birthday. Umberto kept dry oranges and lemons in it and loved the smell of wood mixed with the tarty smell of the dried fruit.
Umberto enjoyed this smell during most of the day. It was his best friend now that he was all alone in this world. Xerjoff’s Kobe was bringing back fond memories of his childhood at his grandpa’s house.
By the time of his evening stroll through the park around Lazaro Galdiano, Umberto could detect the faint smell of light musk sticking to the collar of his shirt. These were the final fleeting moments of his faithful companion Kobe. What consoled Umberto was that tomorrow morning, they will meet again when Kobe would greet his with its bright citrus weighed down by memories of days gone by.