“The cigarettes you light one after another won’t help you forget her.”
“Her father’s shadow looked sadly down at her. “You can never forget what you do in a war, September my love. No one can. You won’t forget your war either.”
“She takes another long haul, lets the smoke settle in her lungs-- she has heard somewhere that cigarettes are good for grief. One long drag and you forget how to cry. The body too busy dealing with the poison.”
“Wrapped in a police blanket, I watched the rain and smoked one black cigarette after another...”
“Seriously? You won’t help me?”“Help yourself get killed? No, I won’t.”
“Yeah,' I said and started smoking another cigarette. Unless I inform you otherwise, I'm always smoking another cigarette.”