Be there in a minute.

I reclined against the dark glass watching groups of young men walk past, sometimes eating, sometimes laughing, always searching.The weight of my legs pressed downwards against the ledge of a window. The chill of the marble pushed back.

Smoke plumes trailed upwards into the fluorescent street light of the city night.

The cigarette filled my lungs, soft and acrid.

Exhale.

The warm sticky air clung to my cheeks and calfs in a salty film. I traced a finger over my collarbone and looked at the bead of sweat. I felt the gentle pressure of blood in my arms.

The rumbling din of the street moved gently through my stomach, up and around finally resting behind my closed eyes. I waited there for a few more seconds.

I stubbed the cigarette out and hailed a tuk-tuk.