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Icebreaker

“Hey, do you have a cigarette?” I asked, wiping a trail of alcohol from my mouth and trying to ignore the drunken festivities clamoring from a few nearby bars.

“Sure!” The woman smiled, deviating from her friends. She sauntered towards me, digging a hand through her purse to pull out a pack of cigarettes. She probably didn’t smoke much, the pack pristine but not recently purchased, crumbs of tobacco escaping to my palms after fiddling with it.

And without a word, she meandered off. I pictured us standing together, smoking, and conversing about the various entities in the universe that bring people together. But I could only chuckle while staring at the ground, my cigarette held snug by a sidewalk joint.


This story was originally published in 121 Words.

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