Enriching Floods

Smoke curls up from the struck match as he lights the cigarette. Nicotene floods his body, and he sighs inwardly. Cool wind brushes his face, and he spreads his legs out into a comfortable position.1

The lack of light is determined by the clouds covering the half-cut moon, and silvery waves shimmer through the clouds every off-interval. Ground beneath is hard, as he clomps his feet in place to an unheard tune to a passer-by.2

Inhaling again, he lets a few distant words slip from his tongue into the still air. The small string turns into a ball of yarn, as he begins to ramble inconsistently to his mind's thoughts, going on and on about random subjects. 3

A quick flash of light. He stops, and jerks his head down, trying (though impossible it may seem) to become invisible. After an eternity, the light dissapears, and he resumes his position.4

The cigarette is half-finished now, and he begins to hum a not-so-famous tune by one of his favorite bands. It continues on until he forgets the beat, and then he quickly switches to the beginning of another song, very similar to the former. Embers gather around his feet as he does this, and he taps the ash off the end onto the empty bench.5

He watches the ashes burn and smolder, continuing to fight against the wind, but watches them eventually smote out on their own according. An exhale of smoke, and it curls ever upward, around his face and nose, pulling itself tauntingly into his nostrils once again, so that he may taste the wonderful ingredients that so often pull him back to his addiction.6

Looking down, he notices that it is near the end.7

A steady, continuous chill is now in the air. He shivers, as the wind brushes up against him like a lover so often aroused, but he can do nothing for her. Another burst of light, but this time he doesn't hide. It is gone too quickly for him to notice anyways, and he quickly shuts it out of his mind.8

The last bits of nicotene enter his lungs, before he hits the filter. Dropping the cigarette to the ground, he mutters, "Do it."9

A thump resounds in front of him. Looking at the black shape in front of him, he stares up, and he steps on the cigarette. Turning his head, he walks away.10