Smoking - Cover

Smoking

by f. aces

Copyright© 2003 by f. aces

Fiction Story: Memories of a smoking man.

Tags: Ma/Fa   Heterosexual  

by Memory's Grace

There is no feeling as lovely as the hot scorch as smoke enters your lungs. You finally realize what breathing is, and you know the actions of your body in its being. And you breathe in. You breathe it all in.

I don't live in the city. Not anymore. The noise was getting to me, and the people were... well, they were people. I don't really remember them.

I do remember her, though.

Maybe I do.

I don't know what I remember about her. I think it's a bad thing when all you remember about a person is the actions that you took with them.;'

That is a foolishness and failing of women.

"So, how were things?"

"Fine."

"What happened?"

And it doesn't matter anymore, Tynn. I don't care what happened, even if it was 5 minutes ago. I don't care about the fact that I saw Alice giving Bob a blowjob in the theater, while Carol minded her own business beside them. It doesn't matter.

"Not much."

"What's wrong?"

Nothing, I'm just blowing you off.

You see, I love my rats. I've had them for years now, and they're so kind and gentle. One of the best things about rats, as you can ask any rat lover, is their paws: they're so delicate with them. they almost act like humans with them. This is how I feel about people.

I think if I try real hard, one day I can be human.

So I took up smoking. I didn't have a hobby. Most people build model trains or fuck their sister. I smoke. It's a victimless hobby.

I got a zippo so I could be cool like the other smokers, only to learn that my opinions of other smokers had been formed by watching Humphrey Bogart and jerking off to Lauren Bacall. It's a victimless hobby.

So I got a cigarette case. The best thing about a cigarette case these days is that no one knows what the hell it is, and it's always a mystery (like Christmas) when you produce a cigarette from one. I'm a modern day magician: with just a puff of smoke I can make a cigarette disappear.

Won't mother be impressed.

"Oh, God, I can't stand him."

"Why's that?"

Now we're talking over instant messenger. A true waste of time if ever there was one. Pointless completely: most of human interaction is based on the lies of body language, and I don't think all that much of human interaction to begin with.

"He's so hairy."

Except for sex, mind you. Sex is a wonderful human interaction, mostly because it's so funny. That queer look people get on their faces, I assure you, is beyond value. Especially virgins. They're great.

"Ahh, an excellent thing to base a relationship decision off of. I hope that our interactions are based off of the same sublime interpretations of glory and the everlasting ineffable something that creams your panties for you."

"Well, it's true."

"Sure."

Instant messenger was designed for short little phrases like this one. Short, sweet, non-committal, and totally unacceptable in person. Kinda like a politician.

"I'm trying to figure out how to tell him I'm not interested in him."

The funny thing about this is not that she's telling me about it, it's that in another 2 months she'll be dating him as well as me, and after that, I will realize that she has never been dating me.

 
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