She picked up a burnt stub from the ash-tray and ran her finger around its end tracing the lines of his mouth on the smooth amber that concealed the filter.
"How does such a delicate strip of paper
manage to nestle so much toxicity and yet remain unaffected?" She
thought to herself even as she placed the butt in her mouth pretending to
take a drag.
"Do I look like you?" She asked shyly propping herself against the pillow, pretending to take another drag.
Amused by her antics, he smiled faintly and lit a fresh stick, placing it between his nicotine stained lips.
"Why do you want to look like me?" He asked exhaling the smoke.
"I
just want to." She replied, breaking into a slight smile.
In that
moment, propped up against the pillow, with the burnt cigarette between
her fingers and the slight smile on her mouth, she really did look like
him.
Short and sweet, I think it's a beautiful attempt at flash fiction. I need to train myself to write such crisp and polished stories. :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Suchitra. :) Do write and share.
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