He looked at the dolorous shape of his hand with blood seeping from several deep cuts and chose to absolve the filth on the cigarette man’s pants. The man stepped back suddenly, shocked at the transferred mess. He growled and grinded his teeth staring down at his little punching bag. This definitely warranted another fist across his face, but he was told to ignore the antagonism by the shiny shoed man. Cigarette Man fumed with deep breaths and moved backwards into the darkness.

Trimble stared the bald man down as he moved out of view and slowly brought the smooth cylinder of tobacco up to his face. He closed his baby blue eyes and rolled the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger near his broken nose. This emitted the sweet odor that caused him to relax as he popped it between his lips. He lit the cigarette. The first pull of smoke rushed into his mouth tasting the flavors. He opened his mouth slightly and some smoke whirled out. He inhaled it up into his nostrils before expelling it.

“Not bad.”