You're pulling into a fruit stall at the edge of a souk in the last light of afternoon, bergamot rind and litchi juice sharp and sweet on your fingers. Incense drifts from the next stall into a basket of dark red roses, turning the air smoky and floral. By the time you're walking home, the sun is gone, leaving amber resin and damp vetiver root warming against your skin like courtyard stones still holding the day's heat. Smoke, rose, and warm stone long after dusk.
