” Love is a smoke made with the fumes of sighs – William Shakespeare”
They said, ” Don’t pick up that cursed wand. It will kill you.”
He puffed slowly, his heart responding to the smoke, he felt his lungs being held by warm hands. Taking small, slow draws of the cigarette he felt enchanted like he never felt before.
His eyes lost in the smoke, he was desperately looking for something. It was like he can see her in the smoke, he felt more alive with the growing cancer. With every blow, the smoke gets denser and he drowned more and more in her memories.
He was holding her hands, she was lying on the hospital bed. Her restless eyes were endlessly looking at the love of her life. ” I don’t deserve you… I never told you… Tell me why didn’t you ask? You never asked me why I smoke” she began weeping.
” My father hated me and my mom. He used to call us sluts. I never knew how it feels when you are in your dad’s arms. Mom had to take care of me. Her hopes and dreams died when she came to know about my tumor.” she sadly said.
” I hated this life, I didn’t want it anymore. Until she met me! She made me calm when I was anxious, she was like a tranquilizer, she was my drug, he was mine… People say it’s a bad habit, but it was my escape from everything. Can you do a last thing for me?” she asked him holding his hand tightly.
” Share a cigarette with me… just for this time” her eyes were full of tears ” feel it. It heals. Smoking heals.” She remained silent with her escape from everything.
He lost his sight, the smoke faded away. He burst into tears, weeping loudly, he said to the fading smoke ” I want to be with you. I want to be free. You know that I got a sentimental illness for you. I never fulfilled your dying wish, but eventually, she always reminded me of you. I felt it. It heals. Smoking heals.” with the last cigarette, they can finally be together….