Smoke

C.N. Mbhalati

C.N. Mbhalati

· 3 min read
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It was a dark and stormy night, or maybe it wasn’t. Nicki couldn’t really remember and for a second it didn’t really matter. Cerberus the cat sat near her feet. Nicki looked at her beloved feline and smiled. She took a good long sip from her glass of wine and gazed at the skyline.

She sat on the fire escape of her apartment. Nicki did not know what time it was, but she could tell it was after midnight. The club opposite her apartment building closes at around 1 am. Scores of drunk bodies spill out into the street. Some girls vomiting on the curb, a few guys getting in fights, and a few folks just as excitable as they were when they came in earlier that evening. The noise was a lot. She didn’t mind, and neither did Cerberus or her glass of wine.

She wasn’t wearing pants. She wore his hemp. For so long she’d worn it to make it feel like he was still there. Tonight, he was not there but that was okay. She was okay. Cerberus was okay.

Jacaranda, the ironically named plant he’d gotten her for her 25th birthday, was dying. Her leaves were falling off like Autumn came early. “Who even names a plant anyway?” she thought to herself. Nicki didn’t care. She was okay. Cerberus was okay. The wine was okay. She poured herself another glass.

It was a dark and stormy night. Or perhaps it was a bright and sunny day when she snuck into his place. Perhaps it was partly cloudy and sort of humid, but that wouldn’t really make sense because it was summer and all. Right? That’s how weather works, right? Nicki didn’t really know.

Maybe it was drizzling, or it was windy, or maybe the weather doesn’t really matter. Nicki remember every detail of the day except for the weather. But that was okay. She was okay. She checks her phone. It tells her that it’s 2am. She remembers that day like it was yesterday. In fact, it was yesterday. Now that she thinks about it, Nicki finds it odd that the weather changed so fast so quickly. it still really doesn’t matter, though.
This night she sits and she watches.

She watches as the sky lights up. She listens as the hustle and bustle of the city just fill the atmosphere.

She watches as police cars wiz back and forth.

She watches as ambulances dart to and fro.

She watches as fire trucks barrel their way through traffic.

She listens and hears sirens and screams.

She sees the drunk folk on the street looking up in horror.

She watches as all of the attention is pointed towards one central building in distress.

It’s his building.

She watches the discord and chaos she created.

She watches as the government vehicles try to stop the fire on the top floor. His floor.

She thinks about his pent house. She looks at Cerberus and rubs his neck.

“What a waste, don’t you think?” she asks him.

He purrs in satisfaction.

She smiles.

The building burns.

And she takes a sip of her wine.

C.N. Mbhalati

About C.N. Mbhalati

A Software Engineer, a writer, and a Hostage of Peace.

Copyright © 2024 C.N. Mbhalati. All rights reserved.