Pomegranates and Clove Cigarettes

She placed the cigarette between her lips; a taste like candy loitered atop her taste buds as a numbing sensation danced from the little black cylinder.  She fumbled with the lighter; the silver reminded her of the way his eyes would shine…
She inhaled, welcoming the burning reminder of life it brought to her lungs.  The end flared red and made a soft popping sound.  She flicked the dead gray ashes away and exhaled slowly, admiring the spiraling pillar that floated before her.  The glow crawled towards her fingertips as she took another long drag, the calm washed over her as the memories flooded her chest, pressing against her lungs and tumbling in her gut.
The ashes fell to her feet then were carried across the asphalt by the gentle wind.  The winter cold nipped at her nose and fingertips but she wasn’t aware.  She was numb from head to toe; the weather had no affect on her as she slid into the driver’s seat.  Her knuckles were white when she wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel; the imitation leather was cold and biting to her skin.
She missed having him in the passenger seat so she lit another clove; click, click, flame.   The window was up so the smoke clouded in front of her.  It lingered before her in a daunting fog of memories.  She opened the window and waved it away.  She shifted gears intuitively and continued down the back-road, trees on her left and an empty field on the right, high beams blazing the path before her.  The music blared and the chorus swelled. 
Her hands shook as she brought the butt to her lips and sucked the remaining brio into her lungs.  Her stiff cold fingers lost the cigarette and it fell to her lap; she didn’t notice until moments later when it singed her leg, breaking through the calm and numbness.  “Shit.”  She plucked it from her jeans and brushed away the dying embers.  Headlights approached her in the rearview mirror; she sped up and lit another cigarette.  She was pushing eighty in the fifty and the roads were clear aside from her and her pursuer.
She didn’t feel like herself while the adrenaline pulsed from her core, her heartbeat had synced to the music and she shifted into fifth gear.  “Faster…” he whispered from the seat beside her; she smiled and obliged. 
The needle indicating RPMs climbed towards the little white 40, she neared ninety-five MPH and the car began to shake.  She didn’t care; he was there and she wasn’t going to lose him this time.  She glanced at the rear-view and reality crashed upon her sleepless form, the headlights were gone, the car she thought was in fast pursuit of her had taken the turn about two miles back and there was a stop sign a few feet ahead.  She shook the visions from her head and gripped the wheel tighter; clutch, brake, squeal.   The illusion was gone and the game was over.