Everlasting cigarette

Story written by octavian on Tuesday 19, March 2019

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A very short story about driving through the night and finding peace of mind. *Contains explicit language

Overall Rating: Not Rated

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"Happiness is driving alone at night" As my fingers are starting to burn I know that it is time for me to go. God, I wish this cigarette would last forever. I wish this dull moment would last longer. Here, on this godforsaken parking lot in the middle of fucking nowhere. Alone, in the darkness of the night, just me and my thoughts. But there is no way back for me, who am I kidding. I must go all the way this time. It will be ugly. It will be messy. But will be the right thing to do. I am going home, and I am ending this. I am done playing this cheap fake role in this marriage. This way I can go my way and she, well... she can find hers and go that way. Yeah, she'll cry. She'll beg. She'll tell me that she can change. That she can do better. That she will do better. Even if she doesn't have a single idea of what to change. I don't have a clue either. Fuck me if I know! All I know is that I feel nothing when I come to her day after day. And when did it start? When did I lose myself from this relation? And how? No fucking clue as well. I light my second cigarette and inhale deeply. I hold my breath and open my mouth as the smoke leaves my lungs. I don't blow! I just admire the beauty of the smoke gathering in a dense cloud in front of my face as the air stands still. Dense white stripes of smoke are embracing one other in a perfect balance. Not just two. Countless stripes of the smoke of all shapes and shades. All embraced in a large cloud. I am mesmerized by the moving shape of the glowing white smoke. It is perfect. It is nothing more than simply sublime. Perfect harmony. And it's all coming from me. Damn! A truck passes ripping through the darkness of the cold night. I estimated that this parking lot is far enough not to be bothered by traffic. Damn the trucks! I hate them. As it passes it's not disturbing just the darkness and my thoughts. The moving air from the massive machine is blowing my cloud away, ripping it apart. So much for the perfection born out of the cigarette raping my lungs. Pity... But as a heartless parent who lost its only child, I just inhale deeply again from my Lucky Strikes. I just make another cloud. I find myself amused by my own thoughts. Alone in the dark, I am smiling as I leaned comfortably to my car. What an asshole I am. Thinking to myself that I gave birth to perfection itself as I should just be brave enough to just fucking go home and tell her that I am leaving. Why am I hesitating? Will she get all emotional on me? Of course, she will. She will show all her love and affection. And this will just be just another fucking reminder of all the feelings that I don't have for her. And this is exactly why I must do it. I will go home! I will look her in the eyes! And I will tell her "Mia, we need to talk!" Afterward, all the breakup talk will be inevitable. All the crying! All the heartbreak and all that shit! But it will pass like a fucking thunderstorm. And when the storm will be gone it will be sunshine and god damn fucking rainbows left behind! The break up will be done and gone! Twelve years of this marriage will be a matter of the past. Dead and gone. Like everything else that belongs to the past! I am not spending a single moment hidden in this fucking parking lot like a coward. I throw away my half-smoked cigarette. With a flick of my fingers, I launch it into the air. I follow with my eyes the red spark as it flows through the air. As it falls on the concrete far away from me it breaks apart in thousands of tiny sparks. A fucking Big Bang and nothing less! As I lift my lazy, coward, ass from my car, my body is reminding me that I am getting old. Something trough my back, that I never knew it's there, is reminding me with slight discomfort, that I am not getting any younger. I am going to die someday, and all my thoughts and my problems will be worthless. So why bother with them in the first place, right? I smile again, and I open the door of my Mercedes. As the light is turning on I am reminding myself of the nice things in my life: my car. I drive a Mercedes Benz S63 AMG Coupe. It is the best thing in my life. No doubts there. At least that clear as it gets. When you love your car, you love your car. You never lose this kind of love. Man and machine! That's perfect harmony. Because one is built to please the other. Without compromises. Unless you consider the price, the taxes, the maintenance, the fuel consumption... But otherwise, it's god damn perfect. I get in my car and I feel the tight embrace of the seat! I feel hugged by it. It's holding my back! Yes! That's it! That's what my car is letting me know: "Don't worry! I've got your back pal. We're going through this together man. We're going to be just fine. After this mess will be cleared out and forgotten, you and me, are going to roam the highways chasing the sunset." As I close my eyes and slowly reach for the steering wheel I feel like the car is talking with me, calming my mind. I press the ignition button. The most beautiful sound in the world comes to life and with it as the four thousand cubic centimeters engine starts roaming... It's alive and it greats me as the perfect designed dashboard lighting up. That's happiness right there. It can't be denied. I touch the acceleration pedal as the car is in Parking mode. The V8 monster living under the hood comes to life: "Come on buddy! Let's do it. We'll go to her. We'll scar her fragile soul. We'll feel like shit, like the villain of this story should feel. But guess who's going to ride into the sunset buddy??" That's my car's answer. I put it in Sports mode. More than six hundred HP are screaming at once from the bottom of hell, as I and my car are running forward as one. I feel the G-forces crushing me into the seat as the massive overwhelming torque pushes forward. With my right hand, I make an effort trying to reach for my pack of my Lucky's. I put it in the corner of my mouth and I grab another cigarette in the corner of my lips. The last one from this pack. Damn it I smoke too much. I drop the empty pack on the empty seat on my right side. The seat that will remain empty after I'll break up with her tonight. With a slight twist of my left wrist and a screech of my tires, I am out of the parking lot, leaving some rubber behind on that tight corner... Totally. Fucking. Worth it! Myself and the car, together as one, are speeding like one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. Faster than Katrina, going to destroy all the dreams and hopes in that home of mine. We won't call it home anymore, after the break up that is to come. More than one hundred forty Km/h and climbing up fast. I see two small lights somewhere far away, on the opposite road lane. There is no limit to my astonishing machine. I am not slowing down. The engine screams furiously as I approach a couple of red lights ahead of me. It's some random car going slowly ahead. I'll overpass it. I see the red stop lights of the car in front, as I am approaching at full speed. Two hundred Km/h already and climbing. Nothing will slow me down! I am determined to go home, tell her the truth about how I feel. I'll tell her that it's over. That it's all done. I will take away from that home that belong to us everything that it's making it a home. When I'll be done with it....it will be just a house. The same slight, yet precise, a twist of my hands to the left. This time both hands. I am on the opposite line. I haven't lifted my foot from the acceleration as I keep it squeezed to the floor. The car in front of me is no ordinary car. It's much bigger. I get it in front of the oncoming truck, face to face for a split of a second. The horn of a speeding truck bursts my years. All I see is white flashes from the terrified truck driver. Blind and deaf, I keep my calm. If I would be alone I would be terrified. But I am not. I am side by side with my outstanding car. Together we're one. The perfect symbiosis. Man and machine! Again, the slight twist of my hands. This time in the opposite direction. I got back in my lane, in front of that slow ordinary cheap car. I couldn't see what car it was. Fuck it! It doesn't matter. I probably gave that truck driver a scare of his life. I noticed the palms of my hands are wet. I feel the cold sweat on my back. Maybe I was reckless a bit, but I needed that. I start laughing out loud happy. I am alone in my car. I laugh like a maniac as I lower my eyes from the road with a millimeter. Almost two hundred forty Km/h... The 4 Liter V8 engine is screaming with rage as it burns the fuel at an insane rate. I slow down as I feel I've calmed down. Yes... now my mind is clear. I am fully aware of what and how I must do tonight. I am confident like never before that I am doing the right thing. There's going to be tons of drama tonight, but afterward, we'll both be on our way looking for happiness in life, in separate ways. Much better than miserable together. It's funny how everything is clear now as the car slows down. As I gently touch the breaks my heart rate lowers the rhythm. We are one. I feel like we're connected. I feel how I and my car got together through this and now we are relaxing at the same rhythm. I've found my peace of mind. It is funny how I've wasted one-hour smocking one cigarette after another in that parking lot fighting my way out of depression with no result. When I had the cure right next to me the entire time! My soul mate right here! I smile as I tap two times with my right hand on the dashboard! "You're the only good thing in my life right now," I tell my car as it's speed lowers to 130 Km/h and keep dropping. "Help me get through tonight buddy. I promise you! We'll be together for the rest of my life." I love fuel burning cars. I just love them. Fuck the electric ones with no fuel and no soul. Fuck their silent engines. They're never going to replace the feeling of driving a bi-turbo V engine. No way. You hear me Elon Musk? Fuck you buddy! Stick to your rockets, friend. Forget about cars. Do you know why people love rockets? Because they burn fuel. Tons of fuel... I start laughing loudly by myself of my own wandering thoughts. "I am losing my mind," I say it out loud. The cigarette is moving in the corner of my mouth as I say each word. I even forgot about it. Damn! I put the car on autopilot. 100 Km/h. The engine is barely roaming now. God, I love this car. I inhale deeply from my burning cigarette. I feel the taste of it. Weird. Usually, when I am lost in my thoughts the cigarette is burning incredibly fast like my mind is running on nicotine. This time is like I just lighted it up. As I blow the smoke gently and lower a bit the window I watch how the wide clouds inside the car are sucked outside. Yet the cigarette seems the same. I smoke again deeply with lust. I look at the cigarette. Seems to be the same size as before. I blow the smoke through the corner of my mouth. It makes no sense. Whatever. Also, the road seems to be quieter. The slightly open window doesn't seem to bring inside noise from the engine or from the tires rolling on the tarmac. Funny how relaxed I feel. Like never before. Being in my beloved Mercedes must have this relaxing effect on me, as my concerns seem to have been blown away. Just like the smoke from my cigarette through the barely open window. I feel so relaxed. For the first time since ever, I feel deep inside my soul I've made peace with myself. No cold sweat drops knowing that I am going home in about one hour and giving my wife the divorce papers. No cold feet. Only peace of mind. Usually, I don't turn on any music or radio in the car. The bi-turbo V engine noise is the music my ears needs and my heart loves. But now it's way too silent. I turn on the radio as jazz music is flooding the inside of my car and my soul. The music is calm, yet heavy. Relaxing and pleasant. Yet something ...austere about it. No idea who's singing. "We interrupt the program due to an emergency broadcast." Some middle-aged lady, who probably hates her job and would like to be home at this hour just so she can piss off her overweight alcoholic husband, starts to speak disturbing my evenly balanced mood: "A terrible car crash occurred earlier today on Road 42. Due to the nature of the crash, the road is closed"..... Pff! Lucky me I just passed that, I think to myself. Otherwise, I would have been told by some underpaid public worker from who know where to turn back. Pff... As I clear my head from thoughts I continue to listen to the bored voice of the radio: "A black Mercedes Coupe seemed to have collided on a very high-speed straight head on to a truck driving legally from the opposite lane. Paramedics arrived at the scene said that the speeding driver was killed instantly. Local authorities have not provided any statement. Currently, we can't say for sure if it was a suicide or....." I can't think. I can't move. I am frozen. As my mind is blank I inhale again from my never-ending Lucky cigarette. I can feel the familiar sting in my chest as I inhale the smoke. I hold it a while and I blow it gently on a side, through the same corner of my mouth. A weird new feeling grows roots in my mind. It's the frustration I think. All my worries and concerns about telling Mia the words that would break her heart and spirit, shaping her character forever... and not for the better.... are now meaningless. I am not getting home tonight. I am not ending my marriage anymore. And no, we aren't splitting the money, the house, her cats and my dog and whatever else we own. She gets it all. All of it. Just as she got all my miserable pathetic last years of this marriage, as I was too scared and coward to look her in the eyes and say to her: "It's over Mia." Why haven't I done it earlier? Was I really a coward? Or maybe because I loved her somehow and I didn't want to hurt her. To hell with it all. Nothing matters anymore. She will get to keep it all. All of it! Also, the memories of myself. A loving husband who tragically died like a fucking idiot. One thought makes me wonders. Would she have been sadder of me leaving her than me being dead? How would she have been happier? I take my hand off the steering wheel. I am smoking my never-ending cigarette. I close my eyes and lean my head backward as I blow the smoke upwards. Deep inside me, I know why I couldn't tell her. I was no coward. I loved her enough, so I couldn't hurt her by leaving. I never cared that I will be splitting everything I had with her. It all makes sense now. Yes, I was miserable with her. But somehow, I still loved her. Weird thing. All my life I never had peace of mind. And now that I found it.... it didn't matter anymore. At least I always had and still have what I really love. I am still driving my car on this unfamiliar road... going... who knows where... But at least, my cigarette is lasting forever now.
   

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Comments

    Wow! Really good. I liked this a lot! One caveat:

    "Something trough my back, that I never knew it's there, is reminding me with slight discomfort, that I am not getting any younger." What is the word trough? What do you really want here?

    "With a slight twist of my left wrist and a screech of my tiers, ... " I think you mean tires here, not tiers.