The porch will probably never be the same to me without a cigarette. It’s nice, you know, sitting here with good music on the itunes and a blank page before me with a cigarette and an iced coffee. I’ll miss it at night when the only light comes from the red-orange ember at the tip of my fingers. I’ll miss it in the morning when I am sitting in my pajamas greeting the midmorning sun with sleepy eyes. I’ll miss it during commercial breaks, long afternoons, and when I just need a break from the day.
So goodnight to you, porch cigarette. It’s been nice, but you’re killing me and it’s time now for you to pack your boxes and cartons and go.
