Smoke Break
A back door of a rickety tavern opened. Liveliness: laughter, love, and life, as well as all the scents that accompanied such drifted out. A figure emerged, slipping out, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall leisurely: no rush. The cool air strolled about, stretching it's spacious wings around in the open space. Eyes turned upwards as he searched through his pockets, appreciating the night sky. The stars were out in full force, beating back the infinite darkness; thousands upon thousands of brave, endlessly shining souls, fighting a hopeless fight against an invincible opponent.
Focusing on the task at hand, the wolf turned his eyes back downwards, shaking grounds onto a thin, crinkling paper slip. The night was silent, save for the sounds of the paper being rolled up; the shadows had little to say tonight, as they did every night.
Then,
snap!
a light rose from the wolf's fingertips, waving weakly in the thin breeze as if woken from
a deep,
deep
slumber.
Thin wisps of smoke ascended from the end of the cigarette, the burning tip snapping and crackling with every inhale. The air waved away the smoke disapprovingly, berating the wolf for having taken up such bad habits. Rebuttal came in the form of more smoke, wafting out of the wolf's snout. He sighed and took another drag; repetition of recreation was, however you looked at it, repetitive. The remaining embers were ground down into their earthy grave. A back door of a rickety tavern opened. Inside, life teemed, holding back the endless night. Stopping in the doorway, the wolf gazed back longingly at the darkness. He smiled, and then shut the door behind him.