Raining
Sometimes you just want a cigarette.
It was bloody raining. It dripped from the gutters and made a din on the rusty tin roof, the rata tat tat of a staccato tattoo. Goddamn yard was a swimming pool.
I shoved another cigarette in my mouth and let it dangle as I hunted for a lighter, one that was nowhere to be found.
“Oi Shazza, you seen m’light?”
“Outside!”
I stuck my head out the door, immediately drenched by God’s piss. There it was, taunting me in the rain. I struck it in the dry house, hoping the air was like tinder. Not a spark.
Fuck me.
About the Creator
Ash Taylor
Lover of fantasy and all things whimsical. Currently studying Writing and Publishing at UNE in Armidale, Australia. Living on Anaiwan land.
he/him
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Comments (2)
Love the colloquialisms in your piece!
I really appreciate this, even as a nonsmoker... 🤔