Sunday, September 28, 2008

Here and There.

So there I was. 
Just there. Right there.
I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't doing anything but just sitting there.
I was doing what I should have been. I was doing my work.
I was doing my work for school. I was doing my work for school and studying.
Studying for tests. I really do not like studying for tests.
But, there, where I was sitting, I was able to do what I needed to do. It was nice. 
It was sort of chilly. I got chills whenever the fan blew my way. It was actually very chilly.
I got up from my table, right there. The one I'm sitting in front of, right now. I can see it perfectly. 
I can imagine my self sitting at that table, writing my paper. Getting chills every, maybe, 38 seconds.
So I got up. I left my bag. I left my computer. I left my pen and my papers. I got up. I got up to go out side. 
I grabbed my purse from under the table. I grabbed my phone. Not that I needed my phone. 
I just like to have my phone with me, where ever or whenever I go out. 
I grabbed my little, lavender lighter. I like that lighter. I like that colour. I grabbed a cigarette out of the new, fresh box.
The new box that I had just bought that morning. The ones in the light blue - maybe turquoise - box. Those are the best.
The full-flavoured ones. My friend called them American Heritages one time. They're not American Heritage, I told him.
They're American Spirits. And that was that.
I pulled out a fresh cigarette. I put the fancy, new box back in my small, black hand-bag. I closed the lid of my lap-top. 
It wasn't on my lap at the time, though, so I shouldn't be calling it a "lap-top". So, I closed the lid of my "table-top", the one that is in front of me right now. Right there - right here, right now. Then it was there. 
I walked past the multiple tables. The tables with the many different people. It was a diverse place to be. It is the place to be. 
And I was there, here. There. 
I walked past the counter, past the register. I acknowledged the waiter behind the counter, "I'm leaving my stuff right over there, I'll be out here, I'll be back." 
"No problem."
And that was that. Just like that. 
I stepped outside, into the sun. I swear that I had stepped out onto the sun. It was just that hot. So, I did not understand how come it was so damn cold in there. 
It was nice, though. I was very nice.
I finally found which direction the wind was blowing. I turned myself against the wind that was blowing. 
I cupped my hands around the fire, and inhaled. 
It took me approximately 8 minutes to smoke the cigarette, right about a couple millimeters above the golden, speckled filter. 
My favourite part, the printed wings. I love watching them burn. I love watching them disappear.
I flicked the deadened cigarette butt out into the street, sat there for a minute, and I, vicariously, watched the rest of it burn. Then it went out.
The smoke stopped. I got sad for a second. And then I got up from the small, metal café chair. 
I went back into the cold. 
And that was that. 




3 comments:

Rex Venom said...

Detailed simplicity.
Love it.
Rock on!

Cherie Darlin' said...

Thank you so much!

A funny little thing, she is said...

american spirits are the best cigarettes for stolen moments. that, and they are beautiful when they burn.