#disco post

IGNITION — The smoke looks cool. Like he’s breathing fire.

YOU — “‘m not a child.” You pick up the roll of paper. It’s smoking on the end.

IGNITION — It smells bad. But at the same time, it makes something in your brain itch the right way. 

Give it back.

Try to hold it.

YOU — You try to hold it like he did. It doesn’t work, though. You end up dropping it off the edge of the roof.

YOU — “Shit!”

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — “Damn. That was my last one.”

YOU — “Really?” You peer over the edge of the roof.

PATERNA MACULA — You need to get it back! Or else he’ll be mad.

RELEASE — So what if he gets mad? He’s a stranger on a balcony. It’s not your problem.

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — He laughs again. It sounds raspy, like air going through vents. “No, kid, of course not. I never walk around with just one.” He pulls an entire packet out of thin little rolls of paper. “You want a cigarette?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

YOU — “Yeah.” You extend your hand to accept one.

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — He extracts a little roll and places it in your palm.

[Reasoning — Difficult 13] Figure out what to do with it

Walk away. This is getting boring. Jasper was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.

REASONING [Difficult: Failure] — You stare at the “cigarette” blankly. Why did you say yes again? 

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — He sees your confused look and decides to help you. “It’s like this,” He explains. He flicks a lighter and holds the flame to the end of the roll until the paper begins to smoke. Then he takes away the fire and inhales, exhales a puff of smoke.

IGNITION — I like that.

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — He holds out the lighter for you. “Your turn.”

YOU — You burn the edge of the roll and then sniff it. You try inhaling it.

PERCEPTION — Tastes like smoke. Raspy and scratchy.

YOU — You cough, then inhale again.

IGNITION — Smell that.

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — He smirks. “How do you like it?”

“Tasty!”

“Tastes like shit.”

Cough again.

YOU — “Tastes like shit.”

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — He laughs. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? How old are you again?”

YOU — “Ten.”

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Technically, you’re only nine by legal standards. By the standards of the culture your mother rejected, babies are considered to be one year old at birth, but you've only been out of the womb for a little over nine years.

DEFENSE — Can it, bookhead. 

SHIVERS — THE CITY BREATHES WITH YOU. THE SMOKE EXITS YOUR LUNGS AND BLOWS INTO THE STREETS, BREATHED IN BY OTHERS, CAUGHT IN THE RAIN AND WASHED INTO THE GREAT CISTERNS BELOW YOUR FEET. POWERING THE SUPERSTRUCTURE IN THE LUNGS OF THE CITY.

FORESIGHT — This means something. In ten, fifteen years, you will remember this moment, crystal clear, the first time you realized you were breathing in sync with the city. During the beginning of the end.

SMOKER ON THE ROOF — “Damn!” He whistles. “Maybe I shouldn’t have given you that.”

AVARICE — It’s yours! Don’t let him take it away from you!

YOU — “It’s mine.” You glare at him.

PERCEPTION — You hear something behind you. You turn around.

JASPER — “Sunny!” He hoists himself onto the roof from the ladder. He spots the smoker. “Who’s that?”

YOU — “Some guy.” You turn your back to him, although you keep the cigarette. “You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

JASPER — “I’m on time!”

YOU — “Nuh uh!”

YOU — The two of you climb down the ladder together and argue. He wants to show you the new clock in his house so he can prove you wrong. You think the clock is probably wrong.

DEFENSE — Neither of you can read clocks anyway. 

THE SMOKER ON THE ROOF — He watches you go silently, then turns to the city and extinguishes his barely burnt cigarette on the concrete. The sun is beginning to rise.

————————————————————————12 YEARS LATER

BITCH COP — “Do you recognize this man?”

YOU — You stare at the photo below you.

SHIVERS — Do you?

[RETROSPECTIVE — Heroic 15] Remember him.

Lie.

Don’t answer.