I only smoke when super stressed. Historically, anyway. I've managed not to pick it up again in the last few years. But just barely.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The repetitive action soothes me. It's the same as yoga breathing, but the first hit of nicotine and smoke to the lungs...well, that's the sweet spot, right?

Inhale.

Exhale.

Blowing out that first deep drag is still the most soothing feeling I can imagine.

Turns out, even a Menthol Light can't give relief anymore in the aftermath of a broken heart. Sweet red wine hits the spot now. And yoga.

Inhale.

Namaste, dickhead.

Exhale.

Sit down, she said. So I did. I sat, and I stared at the blank screen in front of me. Write, she said. I set my hands on the keyboard. The first words that came from my hand, read "There you go." 

The story crafted itself from there, as much as it could. I stayed at my keyboard, the invisible person behind me telling me to keep going. One hundred words, she said. You just have to write one hundred words. 

And so I did. I didn't check my phone, or my other tabs, no matter what. 

There you go. 

Let me make this clear: I most definitely had a crush on Grayson. Yet, when I was driving him home, the two of us alone together in the night, the words stuck to my lips. I just couldn't blurt out, "I like you" so instead silence suffocated us both until he finally opened his lips and uttered...

     "Let's play a game."

     "What kind of game?"

     "Truth or dare."

     "Okay, I pick truth."

     "If you could date anyone besides Zack, who would it be?"

     This was my chance. I bit back my fear, cleared my throat, and said.....

      "I don't know." 

          A woman stirred, rousing from slumber. She reached over, caressing her companion. Gradually, they came alive. Sparked. Danced. Climaxed.

          Despite having watched thousands of times, I remained smitten by these powerful acts.

          That was 7 days ago.

          The woman prepares in her kitchen, unaware as I observe.

          I descend from up high, through the roof, ceiling, floor. There she stands. Care-free, oblivious, beautiful. There within was the potential for pain, pleasure, challenges, adventures, love.

          It is time.

          I look at her once more.

          Just as the soul departs after death, so it must join at conception.

          See you soon, mother.

I’d been anticipating a relaxing day at the park, but the day took an unexpected turn after I met her.

She seemed nice, but when I told her I had to leave, she became upset. Really, really upset. I tried to explain that I had to run errands, but I was cut off when a menacing man suddenly slapped duct tape over my mouth and threw me over his shoulder. Stunned and finding myself tossed in a backseat, I tried to make sense of what was happening. Then things cleared up.

“Thanks, Daddy! Now my friend can stay and play!”