Sensory Overload

[muninnhuginn]

From outside the sun pours in through the Venetian blinds and across the way the used cars in the car dealer's forecourt gleam, a row of metallic fruit flavours, grapefruit, cherry, blueberry, spearmint; inside, the light is comfortably dim but not so dark as to demand artificial enhancement; in the background, Sui Vesan sings "Makovienka"; on the desk a plain blue cup, white inside (on matching saucer), of Brazilian yerba mate (organic) with a little thyme honey; Clinique's Happy Heart mellows from its first intense floral blast into a comfortable warm base with spikes of lemon; peace.

It won't last. A few blissed out moments, before the brain starts to hum into its usual fractious, irritated state, before the state of the world overwhelms the state of this one being.

Of course, two small ironies ought to be pointed out:

1. The allergy-prone ravens use perfume at all and perfume bought from the cosmetics manufacturer they originally found because the products were not saturated with scent.
   
2. The ravens wear "Happy". (Probably a case of making up for a natural deficiency, then.)