Nicotine Rush..
"you know, I'm trying to quit these" she stated, gesturing casually with a near-empty pack of ciggerretes clutched loosely in her right hand. The faint hum of background chatter entertained the scene. The strong scent of coffee filled the air and a stray wisp of pale grey smoke from the girl on the next table danced gracefully above.
"..I've wanted to quit for ages. I just can't. I wanted to tell you that" she informed him. "my weakness, huh?" she added. Pre-occupied, he missed the point of her outpour.The thin flume of smoke filtered out all traces of colour and depth from the scene, reducing it to a flattened greyscale of its' past-self. He remained silent, waiting for the moment to pass. She assumed silence, waiting for him to acknowledge her struggle - a shrug, a grunt, anything. Nothing.
Driven by the awkward silence, she began to caustiously fumble the rectangluar box. The fumbling quickly twisted into an anxious shaking. The shaking esculated into a staccatto beating as her free hand tapped rythmatically against the half-empty carton until finally she could take no more: The lid exploded open as she flicked it back with the thumb of her right hand. She swiftly extracted the second to last ciggarrette and rushed it to her pursed lips. Her right hand darted clumsily within her pocket, frantically searching for a lighter. She soon located the lighter and thrust it up to the ciggarrette balanced between her lips. The harsh gritty sound of the churning flint-stone polluted the quiet scene as she repeatedly attempted to spark up. A sound gritty enough to suppress the calming background hum and sharp enough to cut through the veil of smoke, yet still unable to break his fixation on nothingness.
"hah, I guess I won't be smoking tonight.." she informed him, humouring the situation. She tossed the empty lighter onto the table, slumped back in her chair, and reached for the ciggarrette trapped in the corner of her closed lips. Instinctivley, he reached into his chest-pocket and extracted a lighter. He raised it to her mouth and flicked back the flint-stone. A spark emerged and a flame soon followed. The flame maticulously carressed the ciggarrette for a brief moment before dissapating into the invisible silence. A dim, orange glow suspended itself upon her lips- the only reminder of the flame's existance. The dark orange soon twisted into a brilliant sunburst yellow as she inhaled, sucking back the calming vapours of the lit ciggarrette. She held her breath and reclined back into the chair. Her hands rested peacefully upon the table. Her pains were soothed, her tension smashed.
"..last one, ok?." she gasped before reaching up to grab the ciggarrette as she expelled the smoke from her mouth. But before she could do so, he plucked the sparkling ciggarrette from her lips and drove it into the ash tray, pounding the glowing orange to a charred black stub.
"yeah, last one." he aggreed.
"you know, you're fucking wierd at times..." she said with a tone of genuine interest. "fucking wierd".
***
Nothing to do, thought I'd write something. Based on an event in a cafe not so long back. She was was a non-smoker, though....
**
"..I've wanted to quit for ages. I just can't. I wanted to tell you that" she informed him. "my weakness, huh?" she added. Pre-occupied, he missed the point of her outpour.The thin flume of smoke filtered out all traces of colour and depth from the scene, reducing it to a flattened greyscale of its' past-self. He remained silent, waiting for the moment to pass. She assumed silence, waiting for him to acknowledge her struggle - a shrug, a grunt, anything. Nothing.
Driven by the awkward silence, she began to caustiously fumble the rectangluar box. The fumbling quickly twisted into an anxious shaking. The shaking esculated into a staccatto beating as her free hand tapped rythmatically against the half-empty carton until finally she could take no more: The lid exploded open as she flicked it back with the thumb of her right hand. She swiftly extracted the second to last ciggarrette and rushed it to her pursed lips. Her right hand darted clumsily within her pocket, frantically searching for a lighter. She soon located the lighter and thrust it up to the ciggarrette balanced between her lips. The harsh gritty sound of the churning flint-stone polluted the quiet scene as she repeatedly attempted to spark up. A sound gritty enough to suppress the calming background hum and sharp enough to cut through the veil of smoke, yet still unable to break his fixation on nothingness.
"hah, I guess I won't be smoking tonight.." she informed him, humouring the situation. She tossed the empty lighter onto the table, slumped back in her chair, and reached for the ciggarrette trapped in the corner of her closed lips. Instinctivley, he reached into his chest-pocket and extracted a lighter. He raised it to her mouth and flicked back the flint-stone. A spark emerged and a flame soon followed. The flame maticulously carressed the ciggarrette for a brief moment before dissapating into the invisible silence. A dim, orange glow suspended itself upon her lips- the only reminder of the flame's existance. The dark orange soon twisted into a brilliant sunburst yellow as she inhaled, sucking back the calming vapours of the lit ciggarrette. She held her breath and reclined back into the chair. Her hands rested peacefully upon the table. Her pains were soothed, her tension smashed.
"..last one, ok?." she gasped before reaching up to grab the ciggarrette as she expelled the smoke from her mouth. But before she could do so, he plucked the sparkling ciggarrette from her lips and drove it into the ash tray, pounding the glowing orange to a charred black stub.
"yeah, last one." he aggreed.
"you know, you're fucking wierd at times..." she said with a tone of genuine interest. "fucking wierd".
***
Nothing to do, thought I'd write something. Based on an event in a cafe not so long back. She was was a non-smoker, though....
**
posted by Ben at
2:48 AM
1 Comments:
You certainly have a way with words. Made a great read that entry. Now you know i'm another that likes to read your blog occasionally :)
Matt H (from CIC)
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Anonymous, at 8/05/2005 1:24 AM
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