STRANDED

As the sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, you sat on the beach sipping a salted margarita, the tang of lime dancing on your palate. The waves serenaded you with their rhythmic crash, while the soft sand cradled your toes. A breeze carried the warm scent of coconut vanilla suntan lotion, mingling with the salty sea air, pure bliss.

 

Then, a distant boat horn pierced the tranquility. Your heart skipped.

 

That was your cruise ship sailing away.

 

You’re alone on a paradise island.

 

Guess you're stranded. (oh well).

 

Perfumers: Miriam Shechet & Macaul Neenan