Five people in a car, the night creeping over the bonnet like a starving cat.

The road, empty, stretches out before us, indifferent, and the tyres whisper secrets to the tarmac. The leather creaks, the earth bides its time. A bend, taken badly – too fast, too late, it doesn’t matter. Silence descends, thick as a hangover after a bottomless night. Then the crash, sharp, head-on, final.

01:12. Everything explodes. The leather tears, the earth crashes into the car, the glass shatters into tiny fragments, like dreams trampled underfoot in the morning. The din fills the cabin; fear seeps in everywhere, into the folds of our clothes, down our throats, into our hands. No ‘why’, no ‘how’, just sheer terror, raw and unexplained. Afterwards, nothing. A heavy silence, five lives hanging in the balance, the world turned upside down, literally. I find myself trapped in the wreckage, gasping for breath, my head spinning. One question keeps hammering away: is it over?

01:13. A door opens, somewhere – mine, or someone else’s; what difference does it make? The night covers everything, without a word, like an old accomplice. The road goes on, and so do I. That’s all that’s left, and it’s not half bad.

Rhubarb, juniper, crumpled metal, myrrh, styrax, leather, guaiac wood, Virginia cedar, Siberian pine

Camille Chemardin

Alcohol denat., Parfum (fragrance), Tetramethyl acetyloctahydronaphthalenes, Aqua (water), Juniperus virginiana oil, Benzyl benzoate, Beta-caryophyllene, Camphor, Eugenol, Isoeugenol, Limonene, Linalool, Pinene, Terpineol, Terpinolene.