Excerpt:
From "One of Those Smoking Couples"
The soda burned my nose a little. I took half the bottle in one swallow anyway. “I want to see the glass blowers,” Jill said.
I pulled the soda bottle away from the face. “The air feels good here,” I said. The clouds over the ocean were rolling in with the tide. We'd been on a beached tree for a few minutes. I had needed the air and I'd hoped the soda would help my hangover.
Jill put her hand into my jacket pocket and took my box of cigarettes. She put one to her lips and took the book of matches from the cellophane.
She struck one match after another and each one went out in the wind.
“Watch,” I said. I reached for the cigarette in her lips. She let it go. I could not bare the thought of smoking one yet, because of the hangover.
I put her cigarette in my lips. I took the matchbook. I held the book to her. “We got one chance,” I said.
She looked at the book of matches in my hand. “There's three matches left,” she said. Her face remained blank.
“In this wind, we got one chance. One chance and one half at best,” I said.
“Half a chance,” she said. “That's funny.”
I held tightly to the soda bottle in one and I had the matches in the other. I juggled a moment with these things and finally handed the bottle to Jill.
“Watch,” I said. “Take out two matches. Stagger them like. Strike. By the time the wind blows out the first one, the second will be lit and if you suck hard enough, you'll get the cigarette lit.”
Without much trouble, it worked the way I thought it would. I got half her cigarette lit.
“Wow,” she said.
“Oh, God, I regret that puff,” I said. “I'm so sick already.”
“I don't want to be one of those smoking couples,” she said.
“Gotcha,” I said. It had been two days since we'd gotten to Seaside. We had made the decision to start smoking two days back in a bar. We made a very informed democratic decision to start smoking cigarettes.
We'd chained them since. Already on our third pack.
“Smoking couple,” I said after I had thought about it.
“You've see those people and they're both smoking,” she said.
“I come from the Midwest,” I said. “But you know, if one smokes so does the other, right?”
She took a small dainty sip from my soda and handed it back to me. I took a sip too, but it made me feel suddenly very ill. I was in a fragile state. “I won't smoke today,” I said. “Fuck I'm sick.”
“You won't smoke today?” she asked.
“Good God no,” I said. I held true to my convictions until two o'clock.
The soda burned my nose a little. I took half the bottle in one swallow anyway. “I want to see the glass blowers,” Jill said.
I pulled the soda bottle away from the face. “The air feels good here,” I said. The clouds over the ocean were rolling in with the tide. We'd been on a beached tree for a few minutes. I had needed the air and I'd hoped the soda would help my hangover.
Jill put her hand into my jacket pocket and took my box of cigarettes. She put one to her lips and took the book of matches from the cellophane.
She struck one match after another and each one went out in the wind.
“Watch,” I said. I reached for the cigarette in her lips. She let it go. I could not bare the thought of smoking one yet, because of the hangover.
I put her cigarette in my lips. I took the matchbook. I held the book to her. “We got one chance,” I said.
She looked at the book of matches in my hand. “There's three matches left,” she said. Her face remained blank.
“In this wind, we got one chance. One chance and one half at best,” I said.
“Half a chance,” she said. “That's funny.”
I held tightly to the soda bottle in one and I had the matches in the other. I juggled a moment with these things and finally handed the bottle to Jill.
“Watch,” I said. “Take out two matches. Stagger them like. Strike. By the time the wind blows out the first one, the second will be lit and if you suck hard enough, you'll get the cigarette lit.”
Without much trouble, it worked the way I thought it would. I got half her cigarette lit.
“Wow,” she said.
“Oh, God, I regret that puff,” I said. “I'm so sick already.”
“I don't want to be one of those smoking couples,” she said.
“Gotcha,” I said. It had been two days since we'd gotten to Seaside. We had made the decision to start smoking two days back in a bar. We made a very informed democratic decision to start smoking cigarettes.
We'd chained them since. Already on our third pack.
“Smoking couple,” I said after I had thought about it.
“You've see those people and they're both smoking,” she said.
“I come from the Midwest,” I said. “But you know, if one smokes so does the other, right?”
She took a small dainty sip from my soda and handed it back to me. I took a sip too, but it made me feel suddenly very ill. I was in a fragile state. “I won't smoke today,” I said. “Fuck I'm sick.”
“You won't smoke today?” she asked.
“Good God no,” I said. I held true to my convictions until two o'clock.
No comments:
Post a Comment