Cigarette

A young woman sat with her legs crossed in a worn recliner. The clock across the small studio apartment read 2 p.m. A tiny ray of light attempted to penetrate the thick, drawn curtains, but the only light in the apartment came from a single florescent lightbulb surrounded by a 1970s lampshade. The floor was covered in crumpled up papers and sheets of paper with ink blotches and strike marks. The apartment was unfit for human life; it stank and looked more like a crypt. 

The young woman stared blankly at the television set. It had not been turned on for days. As her eyes continued to rest on the tv, an old woman came across the screen. Only her face could be seen. She held her hand to her face with a lit cigarette between her index finger and middle finger. Her thumb rested lightly on her chin. As the woman inhaled, her lips pursed. She pulled the cigarette forward as she sucked in, drawing in the last of the toxins, or perhaps gasping for oxygen. The woman briefly held her breath and then spoke. Her words were inaudible to the young woman. The smoke seeped from the old woman’s mouth as she spoke.

The young woman continued to sit motionless until the old woman rubbed the cigarette butt against the ashtray. Then the young woman leaned forward and reached for her own pack of cigarettes. The pack sat almost out of her reach on the coffee table. The pack was nearly empty and the lighter jostled around inside the pack as she scooted it towards her with the tips of her fingers. 

The old woman had disappeared from the tv screen and the set returned to black. The young woman leaned back in her chair and took out a cigarette. She situated the filter between her top teeth and bottom lip. She took out the lighter and ran her thumb over the metal and button until the spark lit the gas. She leaned forward until the tip of the cigarette was surrounded by the flame. 

She sucked until a orangish-red glow emanated from the tip then returned the lighter to the pack and tossed it to the table. She placed her hand over her mouth with the cigarette between her index and middle fingers and inhaled. She pulled air through the cigarette and into her lungs. A tiny wisp of smoke drifted from the tip into the air.

She took the cigarette from her mouth and continued to pull air into her lungs. Her lungs could not hold any more. The cigarette rested in her hand. She let her arm fall onto the armrest as her hand drooped over the side. Her eyes glazed over. The embers slowly grew as she sat mindlessly in the chair. Her hand lifted the cigarette to her mouth. The glow returned as she sucked in the air. 

She held the cigarette over the ashtray and flicked the filter with her thumb. The ashes fell into the tray. She repeated the process until the heat reached her fingers. She grasped the cigarette between her thumb and index finger, snubbing the end in the ashtray and leaving the butt among the others. She held the smoke just a moment longer than before and then exhaled, allowing the smoke to slowly escape from her mouth and flow up her face and into her eyes. She ignored the burning sensation and allowed her whole body to go limp against the chair.