XYZT, 7–10


Ghamsar: Rose Essence


Suddenly I find myself in another room, a good deal larger. A kitchen, but there are no stoves. A few women and men busy working. Along the wall a series of plastic tanks six foot wide, each placed under a faucet protruding from the wall, from which small drips seep into the containers. A man stirs one of the tanks with a wooden stick as long as he is tall. Scent of Glade Jubilant Rose. They are standing around a table mixing something in industrial-sized bowls.

‘I think I’m lost,’ I say…