He stepped out of the door and took the case out of his pocket. He rapped the unopened pack on his palm and deftly flipped it open. A tinge of silver shone in the sunlight as he took the cigarette out and put it in his mouth. He let it stay there for a while. It was not like the initial days when he was always in a hurry.
He savoured the raw smell and then struck the match. With a deep breath he let the nicotine burn his insides till it stimulated the dopamine in his brain. The pleasure was not easy to seek. The more he puffed the more he needed it. He held the cigarette loosely between his index and middle finger and gazed at the ember on the tip. He took a puff of smoke inside his mouth. Frenching it further he released the smoke to inhale the same with his nose. The longer he held, the more his insides burnt.
The pleasure was killing, yet it was a pleasure. He tapped away the ember and repeated the feat only to be disturbed by a vigorous bout of coughing. The cigarette had inflamed his body over the years but had not been able to burn out the pain in his heart.