A Lovely So Real: An Ode to Smoke
The thing for those civilians out there to get wrapped around their brain stems is that it isn’t about the nicotine. It’s about the smoke. The feel of it, incandescently winding it’s way into your mouth and down your pipes. Exhaling it into slow curls into the night air.
Andy disassembled his weapon with lighting speed. He packed it away in the black backpack made specifically for a weapon of this sort. He bolted to the roof access door as fast as his little, chubby legs would carry him. He made his way through the condo/office building stairwell without being noticed just as he had done on his way up. Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.