Redolent

As in:

By day six of the self-esteem workshop Vernice was not, by any stretch, feeling better about herself. Worse, she was starting to lose hope in her classmates and wonder, sometimes aloud, about Octavio’s credentials to lead such an exercise. Quietly, she suspected he was on something.

“Okay, people,” Octavio announced, interrupting her anguished line of suspicion, “let’s see what we’ve got.”

With that they all passed their work to Pieter, whose turn it was to read the responses to the daily self-visioning drill.

“Alice: I see myself as a gown. I do not see myself as a shroud of silence.”

“Jack: (Pieter continued) I see myself as a wind of change. I do not see myself as a pile of shit.”

“Victor: I see myself as a complex fragrance, with elements of oak and iodine, and with a lingering scent, redolent of wild rose and vanilla. I do not see myself smelling like a damp ash tray.”

“Sheila: I see myself as the pearl. I do not see myself as the oyster.”

“Butch: I see myself as Icarus. I do not see myself stuck in traffic.”

“Vernice: I see myself wasting my time in this workshop. I do not see myself being here tomorrow.”