There it is again -- the scent of apricots, with a touch of cinnamon. Smells like the end…

There it is again -- the scent of apricots, with a touch of cinnamon. Smells like the end of some distant summer. The surface of another planet, or some ancient temple.

Take a deep, deep breath.

Bitter, citrus, sweet, it seems to grow stronger, like a glow, with every breath you take...

Whatever petrochemical by-products they used to create this artificial flavour have bonded tightly to the wrapper. Or is that just your memory, filling in the gaps?

... until a blossom of skin and flower petals erupts behind your closed eyes. Made of toffee, cream, and distance. You just had to take a dive.

Your heart working overtime, trying to keep up with the panicked synapses firing all over your brain. Moving litres of blood through you, panicking.

Feels very, very familiar. Harry. Please. You were supposed to discard it.

Feels so, so familiar.

Ancient temple?

Yes. From the height of antiquity. A long, long time ago. Millennia ago. On an island of time you can never return to.

[Put the wrapper away.]

End of summer...

The sun sets into the sea, but the water does not boil. Instead it turns to liquid gold. For a moment, the world's store of precious metals seems to increase dramatically, and you are rich...

There is a movement next to you. The shuffle of a small coat. Warm, like the evening. But when you turn toward it there's nothing there...

Wait, come back!

Why are you talking to a gum wrapper?

Where did it go?

A crinkled chewing gum wrapper. The worn label reads: 'Tutti Frutti.' It smells faintly of apricots, with a barely noticeable twinge of cinnamon.

You feel compelled to point out that there's nothing fruity about cinnamon -- It's a spice derived from tree bark.

I'll hang on to it, just in case.

You carefully fold the wrapper into a square, before putting it back into your pocket. Lovingly even -- despite the strange feeling of regret.

You neatly fold the wrapper into a square before you put it back into your pocket. Carefully. Lovingly even...

Why do I even care about this?

Good question, There is no answer or secret phrase written on the inside of the wrapper. Yet you're drawn to it.

Drawn by regret. Stop, before you hurt yourself with the Tutti Frutti wrapper. Throw it away, please.

Cinnamon's not a fruit.

Can a used wrapper shrug? It seems like that's what the wrapper is doing, somehow. This is not about flowers, or bark? What is this about? Why are you looking at this wrapper?