Fragile shard 7. The Last Cigarette.
On that peculiar day, resplendent fluffy gray-black storm clouds hung over the ocean, or perhaps clouds… To be truthful, he couldn’t always discern where the clouds ended and the mist began. So, they hung low. Slowly, yet seemingly faster than one could perceive, they crept towards the coast, which was scorching under the day’s relentless heat.
He drove leisurely along the coastal highway in an old, open-top Cadillac. His gaze fixed on the approaching clouds, watching the orange sun of the sunset gradually sink into their midst. His mind wandered. Soft melodies of Rod Stewart hummed softly through the car’s receiver.
From a crumpled soft pack of Lucky Strike, he retrieved the second-to-last cigarette. He ignited it with the penultimate match. He took a drag.
A distant rumble echoed, and he smiled with a sense of melancholy and weariness, murmuring to himself, “What a persistent thunder. That’s how it goes in my life. I always hear distant thunder, yet the storms always seem to elude me…”
As he rounded a corner, the road abruptly ended. He parked the car and descended to the water, making his way through the rocky slope and thick brush. The wide, desolate beach, adorned with shells, stretched out before him.
He sat by the water, still holding the unburnt cigarette. “What a tenacious cigarette. That’s how it is in my life. I smolder constantly, but I won’t catch fire or burn out…” The clouds drew nearer, so close that he raised his hand, almost touching the soft underbelly of one of them with his fingertips.
A warm, strong sea breeze brushed against his face, gently tousling his hair.
The sun vanished, and lightning flickered, illuminating the suddenly darkened and agitated ocean with blue-white flashes.
How enchanting, he thought, savoring these final moments. He lit another cigarette with the last match, taking in the sight. No more paths, no more ambitions. All roads led him here.
The rain approached heavy sea rain, redolent of summer, warmth, and unfulfilled dreams.
He smiled one last time. The cigarette dropped onto the sand. This time he smoked it to the end.
And the elements continued their furious dance.
You can listen to the audio version of this story on podcast platforms:
“Fragile Shards: Whispers of Transience” is an evocative anthology that spans 15 years of the author’s writing journey. From mystical adventures to dark introspections, these tales traverse vivid landscapes, offering a captivating glimpse into the ever-changing tapestry of human emotions and perceptions. Each story is a unique shard, reflecting the complexity of life’s experiences and the resilience of hope.