OUR CATEGORY : Michael Mirolla

Profumeria

At the age of ninety-five, my father decides on the need for cologne. The traces hover long after he has shuffled by. Fresh. Bracing. Effervescent. Eau de. A perfect cover, I guess, for the cracked vellum-skin beneath. He splashes it on in the space where parchment and spillage meet each morning before a mirror image […]