[m i a o w] the cat

I dance thrillingly whilst dousing myself with angled bursts of Light Blue, the [miaow] scent of the moment.

“Yummmm,” I swoon.
I spray it into the air and walk through the cloud like a proper lady.
M watches, perplexed.
“I can douse myself in gallons of this because it just disappears after a few hours,” I explain. “It’s very frustrating.”
M shakes his head.
“Just because you think it wears off… other people might still be able to be knocked out by it. You don’t want it to be too overpowering…”
“Don’t I?” I inquire, artfully squirting my ankles. “Are you afraid that if I wander about, reeking of expensive perfume, that I might be construed as the ‘wrong’ type of woman?”
“No, I’m just saying…”
“Well don’t.”

It’s now half past four and I can smell only the most tiny bit of it left on my wrists. So sad. Just went and got L.I. to sniff my wrists. She agreed that it was barely there at all! Am heading into the city for dinner with L and so will top up at David Jones. Just grayshsh.