My last cigarette.

I walk with no destination. I talk with no meaning. I eat with no appetite. I sleep with no thoughts. I wake up with no dreams. A day is just a day, to me. So is a month, or a year. I don’t expect anything. And nothing is expected from me. On the balcony, I lit up my last cigarette. I don’t bother to make a note to buy a new packet, no need to plan for a tomorrow when today is barely promised. The street lights had always bothered me. Why ruin the universe’s gift? Darkness is a blessing. A portal to a world of fantasies. With no light, no eyes can judge you besides your own. Isn’t that everyone’s heaven? Define heaven, you ask. That is quite the question. There’s no answer as it is a concept that changes from one another. Therefore it is my heaven only. I let my eyes analyze the shapes that sit quietly along the street. A few cars pass by and disturb my improvised meditation. I should go to sleep. No. I have no obligation to do so. I could go rest my very obvious tired body. But I’d rather admire the sleeping world, than go stare at my ceiling. What’s to admire? Everything. From the stars decorating the cloudless sky to the very own thought of being one of the few creatures still functioning at this late hour. The world is at your mercy. I lean over the metal and notice a person, on the pavement, bringing -what seems to be, a cigarette. I go back inside, irritated that I have to share the world, my world, with whoever this is. I slip into the first pair of shoes and leave my atrociously quiet apartment. If my power is being split, I want to know with who it is. The sound of my slippers hitting the wooden stairs is louder than usual, but I’m sure the sleeping beauties won’t notice. In the street, my companion of the night, had turned to see who was awake too. I hope you’re as mad as me stranger, now, that we both acknowledge each other. I don’t trouble saying anything and sit next to them. I could feel their confused eyes on me. Without looking, I ask for one. They take a moment before reaching into their pocket and hand me the whole box. Ugh, who still smokes this crap. I place it between my cold lips and turn to finally meet their barely-lighted face.’’ A lighter?’’. Their croaky voice surprises me. It barely matches their softly sculpted features. From the quick glance I got, their well rounded cheeks and plump lips had nothing of a rough melody. We, quietly, smoke before I let out in a sigh. ‘’What’s keeping you up?’’. They throw the filter and turn themselves to me. ‘’I’m not too keen on sharing the reasons of my insomnia with a complete stranger’’. I nod and finish what’s left of my cancer stick. ‘’Do you, usually, join strangers on the pavement for a smoke in the middle of the night? They ask curiously’’. I shake my head in a no. ‘’I wanted to meet who was sharing my dominion tonight’’. I get a glimpse of their frowning gaze. ‘’Go to sleep, you’re not worthy of the responsibility that is handed to you by the night’’. I get up and before I enter my building, I hear their voice for the last time. ‘’Aren’t you going to give me back my pack?’’. I, once again, shake my head and close the big door that matches the stairs. On my way upstairs, an unpleasant feeling crosses my spine. As if something is about to happen. What could occur at this hour besides sleep, or death..? I let myself collapse on the couch. With my fingers, I trace the outline of the container that I had just ‘borrowed’. Funny how some things just come right to you. I wake up due to the sunlight penetrating my unclosed blinds. I don’t recall falling asleep. An after taste of nicotine, reminds me of my earlier’s unpleasant interaction. Thinking about it only shakes me up. It upset me so much I let my fatigue take over me. I get dressed in a rush. Not that I have somewhere to be. I just don’t want to waste my time between these uninteresting walls. Right before I leave, I grab my last night’s souvenir. My steps aren’t ringing at the same tone as they were when the moon was looking over us. The sun breathes too loudly for small, irrelevant, noises to be heard. I cross the street that was once empty and dark. People walking, scampering, running. What a lovely show. I spent my day wandering around, looking for entertainment. I was not deceived. Not deceived at all… The old man chasing his dog, made me giggle. The little girl waiting for her ice cream, made me smile. The fellow in the suit yelling on his phone, made me glare. But all this is impertinent. The mirror that was randomly placed on that avenue, made me think. My own reflection. I stood there for a long time. I noticed my soft facial features. Then, when that woman asked if I was okay, I was startled by the croaky voice that was mine. The more I thought about them, the more I saw myself. I reached in my jacket’s pocket, desperately looking for the only thing that confirms my bizarre encounter. As I pulled it out, I saw the regular brand that I’d been smoking for the past two years. At that instant, that exact moment, my brain overflowed. For the first time in a while, I did not know what thought to chase. Suddenly, I had a destination to walk to. A meaning to speak out. An appetite for tonight’s meal: pasta. Thoughts that were about to keep me up. And dreams that would ease up my now troubled mind. What kind of mirror did I look into? Was that really me in that reflection? I observed, what I couldn’t believe, was me as I opened the box and placed one in my mouth. A lighter that was lost in my back pocket, comes out to finally light up my cigarette and my consciousness.