I strike at your heart, but it hits you moments later. Too fast, too fly, I’m a smooth operator. “Je suis le plus grand”, the punch with an aftershock of iris and violet. White lights, vapour lamps, the final bout, the count to ten, the olfactory knock-out. You were raring…

In its tiny, sweet voice, “Vouloir être ailleurs” transports us back to heady, carefree times. Linden flower, honey and freshly-cut hay take us back to when we were 15. Almost adults yet cradled by the perfumes of our childhood. Little did we know then, that in just a few days,…