Back And Forth Through My Mind Behind A Cigarette

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Nick was already a smoker when I met him.  He had started when he was only 15.  Just a few a day at first, while in high school.  Then a pack a day.  Eventually, a carton a week. I always hated that he smoked.  His clothes sometimes smelled like stale cigarette smoke and kissing him within 10 minutes of smoking a cigarette was similar to what I imagine licking an ashtray must taste like (I never understood how anyone could…

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