Smoke & Reverie
The cigarette smoke pulled into my lungs like some desperate clawing animal, begging to release the tension in my muscles, if only slightly. Ash stippled the peeling lacquer of the bartop as I flicked the cigarette over the ashtray. Thank god we still have tobacco, was all I could think as I fiddled with the silver heart-shaped locket in my hand, staring numbly at the photograph inside.
