Found my way upstairs and had a smoke, and somebody spoke

"You didn't need that job anyway," she says as she pulls on my jumper, urging me towards the bedroom.

I shrug her off. "I needed the money. This house may be mine but I still have bills to pay."

"I can cover them," accompanied with a wink.

This time, I let her pull me along. "If you say so, dear."

As we lay ourselves down to sleep, my burning bride lit two more cigarettes in our mouths. "To us." Smoke gathered in pockets of pretty grey, more being produced than an ordinary stick of tobacco should, filling the room within minutes. She found my hand and pulled it to her breast, her lungs gleefully inhaling the fumes, her lips letting out a warm whisper. "To us, and everything we stand for."

Then I went into a dream.

Brick Wall

"This is your eighth smoking break in three hours, Thornton. You can't keep putting off your responsibilities."

"That break took you half an hour? Get back to work, already. This is a busy night."

"Where's Percy? We're short on staff tonight, we need him!"
"Take a guess."
A sigh. "Killing himself."
"In such short words."

"Y'know, he's becoming a bit of a problem."
"I know."
"Maybe you should do something about it."
"..yeah."

I return to unemployment, our separation welcome but our unity inevitable.

Developing Englishmen And Their Heat

My flaming foreigner met me again.

I had spent the week assisting Grubin. He finally chose to pack his wife's things away. That man does not find giving up to be a visit to the bakery, and how farfetched would the suggestion be that no man does?

Last night, I took pub duty. The bartender knows me, said he'd be willing to give me a try. Most of the job consisted of washing containers and keeping the peace. I appreciated the employment as a change from the.. tearstained-glass prison I call my home, though I stumble with change regardless of its necessity. In between tasks, I took a filling of breaks and downed a full packet of inferno.

Today, stress attempted to play catchup with my consciousness, so I downed another.

When my lungs had reached the bottom of the bottled-up cancer, she sat next to me on the pub's doorstep and asked how my day went.

"Action-packed. I have a job now." I felt no desire to look at her; her body's warmth nearby calmed me enough.

She giggled as a gust of wind blew my way, shivering my face, then said, "Hard workers need more breaks than anyone else. Out of cigarettes?"

I grunted as I opened my Golden Virginia to check.

Her hands reached for my mouth, sticking a fresh cigarette between my lips and lighting it with her index finger. "Have one on me, honey."

I reached to grab the stick from my mouth, but she clasped my hands in her own and told me to just relax and smoke a little.

So I took a deep breath and went back to work, my energy renewed.