Flash Fiction: Poison Air

I can’t handle the smell.

“Would you please put that thing out?” I asked.

“Wish I could,” he responded, taking another puff of his cigarette. The noxious white fumes floated around in the room and had nowhere to go.  I coughed, and my lungs burned.

“You can,” I said. I held out an overused ashtray. “You just stop.”

“That’s not how addiction works,” he said, and softly shook his head. “I figured with how much coffee you suck down you’d get that.” Continue reading

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Flash Ficton: Some Humble Advice

That was the seventh cigarette in the last ten minutes. Yung counted. Something in him was humming, just watching Howard go through them. Yung worried somewhat—but he knew so many people that smoked, and, for some baffling reason, most of them seemed perfectly fine so far.

“Look,” Howard said, tapping away some ash, “I was just the same.”

“Yeah?” Yung asked, tilting his head. “You dealt with this too?” Continue reading