The only thought I have in my head right now is of an art deco hotel. 50’s film noir, black and white scenes. A slender cigarette perched between two of her fingers, wrapped in black lipstick. Her lips flash a smile, as smoke is exhaled. You watch it trail out, mesmerized. She gets up, and walks towards where you’re sitting. Each step lasts a lifetime. You glance up at her, she leans down and steadies herself on the back of your chair. With her face pressed against yours, she whispers into your ear. And all that’s left is that smell, her intoxicating scent. It has you burying your face in your clothes, trying to find her.