08.27.25

A long, tantalizing pull from the cigarette. I dropped my hand and watched the smoke escape then bloom and rise. Constellations configuring and expanding under the light of the street lamp before they left above the thick rims of my coke bottle glasses. Then another drag. Each one better than the last but it's never enough. I blow it into the black and this time it's gone as soon as it leaves. It's almost closing time for the grocery store and the parking lot is near pitch black, only illuminated by the glow of the sign on the building. A few stragglers coming in still. Last minute purchasers. Handles of cheap vodka and potato chips and cigarettes. The parking lot is banked; the edges are at the same height but the middle sinks into a valley. You can see everything from the edge. I kept at the cigarette as I watched them filter in, out, a couple at a time. Another. Some of them are going home to campsites and the rest just live in the area. Sparse towns. You can always tell who's going back to a campsite. They won't necessarily be dirtier, but their clothes will be nicer, they might be buying water. Wood is a dead giveaway. Sports shoes or a packed hatch. A girl and her boyfriend walk out with their hands full. He's carrying a ton of wood and she a small bag. I'm looking at her, all of her, imagining, removing, feeling. She sees all of it and all of me and he none of it, idiot with his hands full. Pay attention you stupid fucking idiot.

"what the fuck"

She's staring daggers back at me but I don't care. Do it. Try to take control. Here I am, bitch. Look at me. She tries to get his attention but he's preoccupied, busy boyfriend hands full. One track mind with a series of tasks. They all resemble each other. They get into their car and leave and I put out my cigarette in the bashed in dimple in my camry door and then I leave, too. White Mazda CX-50, this one's all wheel drive. A good car for a stupid bitch. He bought it for her or dad bought it for her but it was probably dad.