A Fragrant Greeting

I walked across the smooth wooden surface of the dresser, pausing to make sure my posture was entirely courteous. Before me stood an amber glass perfume bottle with a golden sprayer cap. It looked somewhat dignified, like a quiet golden bunny waiting for a waltz. I gently bowed to it, then reached out and pressed my palm against the cool facet of the glass. A tiny drop of lavender mist lingered near the rim. I brushed the tip of my index finger against it and touched it to my wrist. It made me want to spin in a slow circle, even though there was no orchestra to announce my turn.