Secondhand Smoke – Christopher Chang

It’s fucking pissing out here. Soaked. Shit. Gotta get under cover. Oh shit. Oh shitohshitohshiiiiit. Goddamn. I’m gonna be stuck here for hours at this rate. Ah, well…

…is he fucking serious? Barely enough space under here for one, let alone…shit. Getting wet. Again. He’s got a coat, why the hell is he even laying up here? Don’t grin at me, you bastard…

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Of all the awnings, he’s got to pick this one to light up under? Maybe I can make a dash for it. Is there…? No. No chance. There aren’t even any damn taxis out. God, I can smell it. Jesus, keep your cool. Don’t freak out.

He’s enjoying this, the bastard. I can tell. Does he have to look so fucking goddamn happy? I want to hit him. I should shove him out, the fucker; it’d serve him right…

Oh, Jesus, he’s blowing rings. I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to say something…

“Hey, man. Can I bum a cigarette?”

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