BARRE Witch Eau de ParfumA lateafternoon powerwalk through the city becomes a secret ritual, cap and neon phone in hand, heart beating to a trapbeat only they can hear. The air tastes faintly like a dark sports drink, cool and fizzy, dragging in crushed apple peel and the damp green of a forest that starts right where the pavement ends. Inside, dark woods loom: resinous bark, smoky herbs, and something bitter and old, like a tincture steeped too long in the dark. Tuberose