⊰ Ninki's first cigarette of the day could be compared to his first steps as a toddler. He teetered, tottered, and stood limply beforehand. Afterwards, he did not stumble forward and alternatively took to his gait with much stamina.
Cigarettes acted as a nicotine laced coffee that blackened his lungs with each drag.
Ninki enjoyed his cigarettes most at night, especially when it was the only oppurunity he had to smoke. Typically, he'd get the session in on the commute back and forth to work. But under the circumstances of the day, it didn't see it's way through.
Beyond the mall plaza was a miniscule park complete with sand and a crimson bench. That bench, red in color, is where he had sat himself for the first smoke of the day. The starts dotted among a blackened sky, and with every puff he'd watch the beautiful clouds float towards each constellation.
He extinguished the cigarette on the cement of the sidewalk. His night was already looking up. He let the beginning of a grin play his lips, half-halfheartedly presenting itself to his features. ⊱
