Saving graces.
and you should know, she uttered with that look in her eye. the look you always thought adorable, where the only thing between you and your latest earful is the echo of her last cigarette rustling around in its softpack, how many paused conversations had you spent wondering how she heard an echo against a softpack burried in the satchel at her waist? and as she paused midsentence to suddenly inhale twice, quickly and walk briskly toward the chilling evening outside.
a lot of people smoke cigarettes to calm themselves in tense situations. like a mandatory 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 to return their blood flow to a normal rate. she was not one of them.
her cigarette seemed to walk itself amongst her fingers as she fidgetted with it, her corduroy jacket wrinkling against the window while you waited anxiously for her return. you waited with your foot tapping under the table imaging your whole body cramped such a small space, imagining all of that smoke mashing up against the words as she turned them over again in her mouth, coming up with the right organization to convey her message to you.
today was different, somehow. and you noticed a brush of urgency as she flicked away her cigarette and pivotted back into the room. you watched as the last spark of tobacco burnt itself at the filter so intently that you missed in her eyes what you heard in her voice.
and you should know, she said, you should know the only reason i’ve never left is because you’ve never suggested that i’m going.