O Google, how considerate art thou

Holding the cigarette just like she held a pen, and straining to distinguish in the nights darkness, Anjali verified again if she had the correct end pointing towards her. Clutching the cigarette between her index and ring finger as carelessly as she could, she placed it in the corner of her lips.As4wK1i8tREo-MQFvxBDg8hgftOpUFBeb8JQ3x5usWAA

Her flat was on the seventh floor of the building and the gentle wind made her kurti flap at the borders. Twice the cigarette lighter flickered and died, the flame then came up with a silght blowing sound at the third attempt and danced with the breeze. Cupping her one hand over the cigarette butt, she lit with the other.

“Left Hand please”, Manu had said to her when she had tried it first time. “The burnt smell will linger on your fingers and you wouldn’t appreciate it if you use your right hand” he had explained. With a sigh, Anjali used her left hand.

She sucked the air through the cigarette as she would have done when using a straw. ‘Inhale. Try and feel the smoke travelling within your system’, she thought to herself.
“oooodi”, he would have exclaimed, if he had been around, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He was dead. Instead, her mobile screen flashed with a beep sound.

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