I think I've smoked too many cigarettes. No, I know I have. I thought I was doing well. Smoking. Not until 10am. Huh! There's a laugh. It was soooo easy the days I did it. But it sure did make my head spin mid morning. Funny. It doesn't make my head spin first thing in the morning.
It was that kid's fault. He asked me for a cigarette at the tram stop. I was lost in the ethics of giving a fifteen year old, fourteen maybe, cigarettes and I just stuck one in my mouth, instinctively. I'd smoked half of it, watching the kid puffing clouds of smoke as he walked away, by the time I realised I was smoking too.
Bugger!
One shoe lace was untied, it flopped around his ankle as he walked. He had his jeans around his thighs, practically. Belt tied. That look. I don't know how they walk like that.
I could have put it out, but, of course, I didn't. It crossed my mind. My brain was even telling my arm to just drop it on the ground and step on it, as my hand put it to my mouth again.
Suck.
Now, of course, I've smoked the good part of twenty. Bloody kid.
Exhale.
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