Fag.

-Aakriti Thatal

Lighting Her first cigarette,
Inhaling the smoke, the heat and the pang:
She let her colours show
And Her wings out.

She shone.
Brighter than the flame igniting her fag, did she shine.

The flakes fluttering in the void, glowed'.
Orange. Vibrant.
She was Happy.
The other smiled there, the passive smoker.
Smiled.
Smiling.
Smile.
Smile?
The cigarette was Blithe.

Life.
She lived One.
With cigarettes taking her breath little-by-little, did she live.
She lived Once.

Taking in the last puff,
She smiled, hollow.
Pain. End. Life. Once. One.
Cigarettes. Her inhaler.

Little did it take for the bright flakes fluttering, turn Gray.
A very short while.
Ash.

They were Happy for a very short while.