The cigarette end illuminated orange as I flicked it one handed into the ashtray; small glowing embers scattered on top of old ash. I considered them for a moment before snuffing them all out with the cigarette stub.
A satisfying crushing of something so beautiful and yet so bad for me. Like that boy so long ago. Like a million poor choices in the past and yet to come.
A satisfying switch from orange to black and grey; smoke extinguishing in a split second. A sense of control over something so small as an ember. Something that would eventually burn itself to ash anyway. …I ignore that fact for the sense of control it gave me to snuff them out myself – before their time; seconds though it may be.