Smoke

The tar laden way is empty right now. No cars and bikes whizzing by, no hawkers standing there trying to sell their goods. Just a traffic light, blinking orange. The road reflecting back the yellow street lights without any breakage like a golden way paved for the silence. A man can be seen walking on it half drunk, half sane. He is babbling and crying and laughing out loud. His clothes are torn and his hair is dirty. Constant fits of cough accompany him. His long nails filled with dirt, a putrid smell emanating from him, he goes to a medical shop. One of the prime examples of human degradation. Another Man is standing near a small shop, a cigarette in his hand and a phone on the other. The poor man comes out of the shop, shouting at the chemist. He seems to be crying and laughing at the same time. His lips are bloody with the coughing. The Man with the cigarette starts walking and eventually as they get closer, the poor man leans and they collide. The phone falls from his hands and so does the poor man. He lies there in the dust and laughs. The Man picks up his phone and asks what is he laughing about. “Our society”, says he. The Man smirks takes a deep drag and flicks the cigarette to the poor man. He reaches and searches for the cigarette in the dirt. He picks it up from near the dog shit and puts it on his lips. He gets up and walks away with half a smoke.

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