that’s what we’re waiting for
24 years old but it was the same infatuation found in seventh graders glistening from behind the screen of her cigarette smoke. The soft snap back of her lighter and the whirring ripping of the air of the accompanying flame were the only sounds in the room as she lit up his cigarette for him. There was nothing funny but she smiled anyway, with a warmth in her cheek that glowed through the fake red rouge smudged on her face. She was happy and he was oblivious. His wheezing cough mingled with the smoke in the air as he finally looked at her from behind glazed eyes. “Why are you smiling?” he asked, and she giggled. He laughed too, and then they laughed together, at different things. His hand shook as he took another drag from his cigarette and he leaned his head back. Tomorrow he would not remember the night, while she would never forget.
