The sun was hiding behind a thick curtain of clouds. The morning had been given an ominious gray undertone. She puts on her shoes and walks out the door. One foot after another she makes progress, or at least what could be assumed to be progress. There really was no real progress going on ever on earth. Everyone was just fundamentally walking around in circles anyway. A light haired boy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth walks by. She stops him in a fluster and asks for a duplicate of the white fiery stick for herself. He gives it to her and holds out fire to lite it. She inhales in the sickly toxins and walks on. Her steps become miscalucated. Her head begins to float with the rush of nicotine in her bloodstream. It was her first cigarette in awhile. The taste was horrible and absoulutly wonderful all at the same time. She stops in the street and stands for a moment to collect her head. Her brain hadn't been working properly lately. Her thoughts have become as clouded as the sky above her head. His name kept popping up where thoughts of school and work should have been. His name kept popping up in all kinds of places they shouldn't have been. Every thought, conscious and unconscious alike, were becoming consumed. She was not one to let this happen. She is not going to be able to keep going on like this. She starts walking again and ends up at a convience store. Her cigarette is estinguished. She goes inside and purchases a box of tampons and a bottle of water. His name runs through her head again and again. She is trying to quit smoking for him and him alone. She has very little desire to spare her health. She has very little desire for anything anymore. Every morning it's the same thing. The review of seeing him the night before. He doesn't like her, she knows this quite well. He was the type to want a trendy femine type. She was nothing of the sort. The night before he had mentioned to a friend in front of her that he liked another girl. Her heart sank, but then again it was already in her toes after so many past heartaches anyway. She already knew this and she still let it happen anyway. She takes her water and her tampons and goes home. She gets ready, goes to work. She gets to work and writes this story because she can't think of anything else and it's eating her away.
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