TROPICAL
Cold and soaked, Esi squeezed herself into the lift with nine others, all of them just as wet and shivering. She was sandwiched between two very broad-shouldered flatmates, both of whom made no attempt to adjust their stances to accommodate her arrival. This just added to her already dampened mood. Not to mention old Ms. number fourteen, who was trying very hard to make eye contact with her. But Esi just wasn’t in the mood for any of her usual 'what terrible weather we’re having' or 'I could do with a holiday right about now, couldn’t you?' Although, truth be told, she could do with a holiday.
The very thought of a recent holiday drew her attention to the bulking shopping bag in her left hand. The goods within made the bag very weighty; she had tried to set it down, but the wet and muddy floor of the lift made her think otherwise. Included with all these goods was one particular product that she was looking forward to using. Once the lift reached her floor, she squeezed herself past the other passengers, one of them looking absolutely scandalized by the way she barged her, as though she had any other choice.
Once Esi had gotten to her flat, kicked off her shoes, thrown her jacket into the boiler closet, and pressed the kettle on much harder than she meant to, she reached into the shopping bag to pull out her little holiday reminder. It was a candle. A scented candle. Not just any scented candle, but a BƆTA Scented Candle from their Tropical Collection. She set it on her dining table, right in its center like some shrine, and lit it in a rather religious fashion. When the scent traveled towards her, it explained even to her why she was so eager to get home and why she behaved like it was a prayer candle for a votive offering. The scent brought passion to a very dreary day and swept away the dull dampness of the grey skies. It took her back to Ghana, bringing to her memory the sounds of the Atlantic oceans in her mind, drowning out the sound of rain beating against her windows.