“The awakening of the dragon, imperial. Eyes sparkling with icy fire.
Oil of orange. He rises above my cup of red tea, his breath swirling
the flavor of bergamot. His trembling shadow stretches out to my place
in the hall of honor. Suddenly the heat swells, and the atmosphere
shifts from citrus to intense wood. Soaring into the air, he vanishes
from the palace in a flash of powder. Benzoin. What is he looking for?
All of a sudden, it stops snowing outside. I can see him in the
distance, undulating in sync with the Great Wall of China. The dragon is
dancing with joy, drunk on freedom. He sows an everlasting spring, maté
tea, grapefruit, and yet leaves a wake of passionate amber and vanilla.