The cigarette old men smoke when they have grown weary of this hackneyed life that has forgotten all about them for a world of neon lights and plastic imports.
Lighting a match and applying it to the end of the Pall Mall cigarette, Charles remembered smoking these during the war: unfiltered, just as he inhaled them now, eyes focused squarely on the past.
"Take me now, God," he implored to the heavens.
"Not happening," said God.
"Take me now, God," he implored to the heavens.
"Not happening," said God.
by Josef with an F October 18, 2007