Cigarette Wishes

Note:Currently Under Construction.           

  "You're going to walk to Allie's house, in the dark to drop off a book?"
My dad gave me his usual concerned look and I nodded. I had no car to drive, and it was only a block or two to her house.
    "Yeah, I'll dress warm and take my cell phone. The neighbor hood's quiet and there's nothing to worry about. I'll be back soon." With that, I left the house.

    Outside, the temperature was dipping below freezing, and with the wind chill it was colder still but if I didn't do it now, I was only going to have to later on. It wasn't the wind chill I was worried about; it was the chill of Allie's attitude that scared me more. I had hurt her, and wanted to apologize but I was still afraid that her apathy would win over her forgivingness.
      As I walked down the street and started towards her house, I could only think on  when I was going to pull out a battered pack of Marlboro 100's. They were the only thing that could calm the jitters that ran through me. Rounding the corner of the street, I was out of sight from my house and out from underneath the first street light. I opened my bag, found what I was looking for and lit up. My lungs were full of winter air and I didn't feel anything. Not the smoke that choked them, not the worries that constricted their air ways; nothing.
    Passing a familiar house, I heard a dog barking from behind a fence. More than once I had run into it, and stopped to run my hands through its off-white fur. Tonight though, it sounded off its mournful cries from behind white pickets. Hush, snow pup. The night is young, I thought, and kept walking.
    Here and there, some of the houses had lights on, I could see the family pictures on their walls. The windows were like pictures themselves, with tiny couches and T.V's blaring from behind the protective glass. If I sat still for long enough, would I see tiny people walking about? Silently, I wondered about those whose windows were dark. Where were all of the people that usually sat, watching from behind their curtains? It was dark, but it was only 6 o'clock. I didn't know, and with a wisp of smoke the thought was gone with the winds that bit at my face.
    Rounding another corner, I was coming up to the second street light. To me, the street light ment 'half way'. Whenever Allie and I met, this is where it was My hands had become numb. They were no longer a part of my body, only beings of their own holding a well bound story to my side and feeding my lips their constant addiction. Absently, I wondered if anyone saw me smoking. Would they care if they did? Most likely not.
    The last half of my walk was in sight, and so was the last half of my glowing beacon of despair. More smoke said its goodbye to my lips and wafted off. More houses still held the empty look of darkness.
    Finally, there stood my destination in sight. Thankfully, the lights here were on. I had already put out my cigarette, promising the cold hand that had held it a safe retreat in my pocket on the way home. Gloves even. The last few steps up her porch were easier than I had imagined.
    As I knocked, my rings smacked against the metal door, and the sound startled me. She answered immediately, and stood in the door. An epic figure I had known for years now, with a cigarette in her hand.
    "Here's your book..." I looked to her for some sort of expression, her faced remained poker like. She was the noble queen of spades, I was a lonely two of diamonds coming here with a meager offer. Despite our past together, our nights of devouring each other's body and soul on a floor bound matress, I still couldn't work up any courage.
    "Thanks." She turned to leave, just as quickly as she had answered the door. In the background, I saw her sister at the table. She no longer regarded me with her usuall happiness. Instead, she looked my way and then went back to her work with a scoff.
  "Allie...Wait. Look, I'm sorry about the things I said. A lot of shit has been going on." It was the best I could think of.
    "I got called selfish by two of the people closest to me. I know, shit happens. It's ok." Her words dug at me; I was one of those two. But had what i said not been at least a little true? I didn't know; I didn't want to.She nodded and closed the door.

      On the way home, I drew another cigarette out of my bag; I had lied to my hand. My walk home was going to be slow, whether I wanted it to be or not. The cold had sapped the energy to walk out of me. Heading back, I still wondered about those empty houses, and I fancied that with every new drift of smoke that left me, my cares and thoughts went with them.


NOTE: This isn't near what I imagined it to be, I guess there are things I was thinking about on the walk home that escaped me between the white dogs home, and where I sit now typing this down. Constructive criticism would be GREATLY appreciated.