Flash Fiction: The Smoking Guy
the smoking guy ©Melissa Breyer
I smoke a cigarette whenever I think of you. Lately I’m going through three packs a day.
You linger in the shadows of my mind and I’ve fought so hard to keep you there. I knew it was foolish to let you into my life, but don’t fools love most passionately? That’s what I tried to do, not that it was any use. You weren’t looking to get attached but you played the game until you had your fill of me.
I’m walking, now, along this lonely street to forget. You peer down from every window, mocking me with your steely eyes. Say a prayer for the other broken hearts in the city, for they know nothing but the cold. One morning I will wake to find that I’m no longer haunted by the memory of you.
But for now, I smoke the memories away.
