I light the second stick and smoke and the fragrance of jasmine immediately fills the air. I toss the blackened matchstick away.
Burning, burning slowly.
The essence consumes steadily. The aroma wafting to my nostrils. Jasmine intruding my soul.
Slowly, slowly burning.
To ashes.
Farewell, dear fragrance.
More incense, less nonsense.
—
I had an awfully weird dream the other night.
In my dream, out of the blue, I decided to finance the construction of a columbarium. Being the financier, I was given the privilege to choose whom I wanted to do the designs of the columbarium. Since they were good friends of my brother I entrusted Conrad to do the designs, and Dondi to oversee the construction.
The next thing I saw is that they constructed a gigantic green, yellow and pink columbarium, with a pink and yellow flower on top of a dome.
The duo toured me around, and eventually showed me my final resting place, the flower.
I woke up, puzzled.
