Room Service Candle

hotel will spend a few thousand dollars a week on arrangements and replace them while every petal still looks perfect. Peonies when the florist wants to impress, big soft heads that look hand painted. You leave for dinner and someone resets the room behind you. Curtains drawn, bed folded open at the corner. In the morning there's a knock, and a tray: saffron honey, and your latte with almond milk, extra hot. You check out Sunday and by noon the staff has it all reset for the Monday arrival. For about a week, your jacket smells like the hallway on your floor. Room Service is that hotel, poured in 100% pure beeswax. Light it at six, before anyone else gets home.