Mojave Ghost

This one smells like... a thunderstorm brewing over the desert. The rare humidity in the air doesn't have the power to erase the heat, but it has the creosote bristling and the wildlife in hiding; so it's only you, the shrubs, and the nascent rain until you notice the tiny, resilient purple flowers that dot the cracked dry ground and bunch around the dried, fallen boughs. Somewhere in the distance you can smell a different flower, or maybe a fruit - its strength seems unreal, because you know it can't grow nearby but you can feel it from miles away. You walk towards it and travel over sands and clay, but then the scent is gone - like a mirage: a ghost.

Aventus for Her

This one smells like... sitting on the floor of a shrine made of lacquered wood in a humid summer forest - but you won't smell any of that until the scent of the fruit being ceremonially offered fades. There's a cacophony of that, a pleasant one that isn't cloying or loud. It's just that there's so many that you can't even begin to guess which one you're smelling. Bright but not tangy, mellow but not earthy, deep but not dark. Before you can put your finger on it, it fades to unlit incense and wood; unpolluted but muggy air; and the purity of yourself.

Pear Inc.

This one smells like... being outside in the sunshine on a perfectly manicured expanse of grass and it's an incredibly clear day. It's sunny but it isn't hot; crisp. Soap bubbles float through the air, projected from some far-off glass building. There's a pristine looking sitting area ahead, a circle of shiny steel benches without a blade of glass out of place on the gleaming white sidewalk. In the middle of this circle is an emulated pear tree. The fruits are almost neon green, artificial but delightful for it. They smell so green and fruity that you wonder if the programmer has ever smelled a real pear, but there's something familiar in the warmth of the undertone that assures you that they have; that this was all an artistic choice.

Mood Ring

This one smells like... it's four hours past your bedtime at a sleepover and your friend offers you a bag of gummies; you reach into the bag and eat one without looking and try to guess the flavor. Orange? Pineapple? White grape? It's hard to tell with the scent of incense from someone's older sibling's room. Or are those clove cigarettes? You hope you don't get in trouble. You're happy, fueled by Vanilla Coke and Blue Pepsi and the satisfaction of listening to CDs and playing video games until you got tired of them - and you've never gotten tired of them before. It's fun but it's too overwhelming. You want to go home, but you're probably just tired and grumpy since your usual comforts aren't here. You don't want to give up on the fun, either though. You'll be relieved when you're back in your own bed but you'll also be excited for the next time that you come over.

Coral Fantasy

This one smells like... rays of sun light, Fruit Stripes gum, and sparkling flowers all filtered through the multicolored glass panes of a mall ceiling. This place is immaculately clean, there isn't even anyone else around. There has to be an Orange Julius nearby and it's making your mouth water. The Fruit Stripes gum isn't cutting it any more, that beautiful flavor only lasts a few seconds if you're lucky. You want to find it, but you keep getting distracted by those flowers. They're so big and tropical and beautiful; how do they grow inside so nicely?

1981 - Los Angeles

This One Smells Like... the early evening after the an amazing day. Maybe you went to a botanical gardens, or played on the beach. Now you're at your fabulous home, on your terrace by the pool - overlooking a majestic sunset on a shimmering skyline. You're still wrapped in sunscreen and there's a lovely and indulgent drink in your hand. The fading rays cast a dusky pink glow on everything. It doesn't diminish the happiness of your day, but you feel a bittersweet nostalgia as you watch the setting sun. When is the next time you'll have such a great day? Maybe this is all a dream and you'll wake up soon. Hold onto this feeling, because it fades so quickly.

Neko