Cigarette

Posted: May 11, 2009 in Fiction

To prepare to write this, I watched a terrible movie, talked to a beautiful woman, and then put on some of my newly acquired collection of Motley Crue. Hopefully the result is readable…

She lay there on the tiny mattress as the man collapsed backward off of her. He leaned against the wall with a thump. I’ll bet he looks drained, she thought. He was still breathing hard, and it was the only sound in the dark room. She could feel the surface of the mattress on her skin telling her that the bed had come unmade again. That happened even when they just went to sleep. He was a restless sleeper, but it didn’t bother her; she didn’t wake up for much of anything. She didn’t know if the rivulets of sweat that trickled off of her were her own or his, but it didn’t matter. She was growing cold all the same. She groped around for the corner of her errant quilt, and drew it over herself.

She watched him lean forward and stand up as well as she could in the darkness. His silhouette passed in front of the window for a brief moment. He was heading toward the trash can. The darkness failed to conceal that he was a bit unsteady on his feet, and he had to brace himself against the wall as he removed the spent condom. She got up and passed behind him to the window and slid it open; true she was still cold, but she needed a cigarette and did not want to put clothes on. The man returned to his position on the bed and leaned back once more, his breathing much calmer now. The room took on a chill as the outside air flooded in, but she didn’t care. She grabbed the pack of smokes from the nightstand with one hand and a lighter with the other. Her lips wrapped around a protruding butt and the cigarette stayed with her as she replaced the pack on the nightstand. As she lit up, the flame illuminated the man in a soft orange glow. He smiled at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

“Shut up, “she said, and giggled. She didn’t like being told that. She didn’t really think she was, and besides, if he could resist compliments then so could she. She smoked in the silence, and he shifted to be under the blanket as well. Neither spoke, so the sounds of the night flitting in through the open window dominated the conversation in the dark room. The woman contemplated the man in the dark. He didn’t think he was much to look at, as he was quick to remind her. All the same, she was quite attracted to him. The soft dark hair that dominated his chest and ran in a line down around his navel to below his waist, his broad shoulders, and his… She blinked in the dark. Man, it was too bad he was gonna fall asleep soon! She sighed again, exhaling a plume of smoke. He coughed. That was the problem with non-smokers. Well, that and the holier-than-thou attitude most of them copped with her. This guy was different about that too. She snuffed the remainder of her cigarette. “Man, it reeks of sex in here,” she said, and he chuckled and pulled her down to the pillow.

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Comments
  1. Roberta says:

    Smoking looks so good here… maybe that wasn’t what I was supposed to get out of it. When you quit, it is all you can see!

  2. Sylvera says:

    It is readable!

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