Thursday, March 8, 2007

Liberation 2

Walking into his room, the first thing he noticed was the cigarette. Stubbed exactly in the middle of the square ashtray. The familiar smear of maroon lipstick. He could still smell the now dissolved smoke rings.
With a wry smile he thought of the letters now lying under her door.
Exactly eighty nine steps away.

2 comments:

wiseling said...

Damn it. sniff.

You write well.

someonearbit said...

:) thanks wiseling.

I may be good. You are phenomenal!