Tales of the Yesteryear Sample

 500

“Let the memories of yesteryear inspire your journey today with the timeless fragrance of Tales of the Yesteryear.”

An Original Creation

3ml

Out of stock

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Tales of the Yesteryear

An Old School Fougère

“Nothing is more memorable than a smell”

Notes: Bergamot, Lemon, Petitgrain, Neroli, Pineapple, Lavender, Cedarwood, Oakmoss, Vetiver, and Musk
Perfumer: Anas Sabrani

Made with organic ingredients

The old man sat on his porch, looking at the rolling hills and fields that stretched before him. He had lived in this house for over sixty years, and he had seen a lot of changes in that time. But one thing that never seemed to change was the way the past seemed to linger in the air, like a ghost that refused to be forgotten.

As the sun began to set, the old man leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander back to the days of his youth. He remembered his first love, a sweet girl with hair the color of golden wheat and eyes as bright as the summer sky. He remembered the long walks they used to take through the fields, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing at all.

He also remembered the war, and the friends he had lost on the battlefield. He had been just a young man when he enlisted, full of hope and patriotism. But the war had a way of tearing away at a person’s soul; by the time he came home, he was a different man.

But it wasn’t all sadness and loss. The old man also remembered the joys of his youth, the laughter, the mischief, and the sense of boundless possibility. He remembered the day he and his friends stole a rowboat and set off down the river, determined to see what was on the other side. He remembered the days spent fishing and swimming in the lake, and the bonfires they used to have on the beach.

As the sky turned pink and orange and the first stars began to appear, the old man sighed and opened his eyes. He knew that the past was gone and that he could never go back. But he also knew that those memories would always be a part of him, a precious treasure he would carry until he died.

As he sat there, lost in thought, he heard the sound of footsteps on the porch. It was his granddaughter, come to check on him before bed. She sat down next to him and took his hand, and the old man smiled. He may be old and grey now, but as long as he had his memories and the love of his family, he knew he would always be young at heart.

“Oh, the dreams of yesteryear,
times, places, things, and people,
that once were close and near.
Now they are just a memory,

locked forever in the pages,
of our olfactory.”

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