part 335.3 of a novel: smoking cigarettes

I’ve never smoked a cigarette. Once I tried to light one for someone. We were walking up a hill. It was windy. I cupped my hands and held the cigarette in my hand and the match in my mouth. I refused to do it any other way and almost burned off my lips because of it, but even backwards and a failure it felt pretty good to strike that cupped hand posture and to this day I’m glad I didn’t have things reversed with the cigarette in my mouth and the match in my hand because I’d probably be addicted.

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