The cigarette smoke floated on the breeze and curled around the branches above the stranger’s head. He had never seen the dark male before, but the moments their gazes met he knew he was caught in a trap he could never escape. A smooth smirk overtook that handsome face, and he felt his heart lost in that very moment.
I use to enjoy the occasional candy cigarette from the comer store by my childhood home. It was called the Country Store, and was decked out in full hillbilly style, complete with swinging doors and fake horse corral. My brand of choice was cheerokee sweet, a cherry flavored stick of hard white sugar, with lighted tip of course. And my favorite part of the whole experience was puffing the powdered sugar residu into wonderful ringlets of “smoke.” Yep, I was pretty much doomed from the start….
She looked across at him in disgust. He was always puffing on those damn things.
“You know they will kill you.”
“If I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be smoking in the first place.” He drawled putting the cigarette up to his lips.
Elea Wright
Dangerous, doing things to upset my mother, beer, parties, strange people, breaks at the barn, loud music that I don’t really like but will pretend to because I don’t want to seem uncool, listening to drama that has nothing to do with me, sweet, salty, bad for the lungs, refreshing.
He tasted just like my first cigarette. A sweet kind of disgust that I knew would have me hooked on what seemed like a harmless habit yet would ultimately be the death of me.
Ruby
Cool French people. Grimy hipsters. Movie stars. Down-on-their-lucks. My dad. Camels named Joe. All despite the Surgeon General’s warning.
Michelle
I have already written about cigarettes. I don’t wanna think about them, okay? They’ve hurt my family enough already. everything they do destroys us… that and alchol. but who cares, really?
It smells. They’re meant to be good. But they smell so bad. They must be if so many people are killing themselves for them. I take a sniff walking past, keep the temptation at bay for a while.
Renee
tHe sponsor of my mid day nap.
mr584903
I take a look at my mother sitting in her rocking chair, she didn’t have much time and she new it. She took out one last cigarette and said “Baby, this isn’t how I wanted to go” I started sobbing, but she remained collected.
Maia
A cigarette in the lips of a stranger; it was enough to set me off. I snatched it from her and tossed it into the street.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said to me, more confused than angry.
“My grandpa,” I said. But then I choked and couldn’t say anything else.
Kathleen Gabriel
i smoked some serious cigarettes, his namee was jim. he was a marlboro and had a son called john player. i smoked that bastard down. he gave me a blowjob.
veronica
A cigarette? No thanks. I’d rather breathe the air. The air that flows through the trees, and at just the right speed, so that it picks up the scent of the freshly cut lawns, the neighbor’s lemonade, the campfire down the street, and it offers those smells to my happy little nose.
Cigarettes are bad for your health. They are an addictive habit. Thousands of people die a year because of the cancer they cause. People get addicted to the nicotine in cigarettes. It is extremely hard to quit. But some guys look pretty badass when they smoke.
Annie
Victoria always said that she thought cigarette was a pretty word. I thought it was too. It sounds french. I like the ette part of it, it sounds french victorian, but mostly just exotic and pretty. It kind of rolls off your tongue when you say it. I hate the mental image of it but the word is pretty.
tricia
He cigarette hung loosely from her lips while she sa on the old rickety porch. She looked out upon the mid-summer’s sky and let her mind run faraway.
Mararita Bray
cigarette. the very word makes me cringe. the smell, the effects, the…eww. just. eww! i don’t know why ANYONE would WANT to smoke one. it’s revolting. absolutely revolting.
He threw the cigarette out of the car. It smoldered for a second, but caught some dry grass. By the time he got home, 200 acres were blackened ash. The television recorded the disaster.
He lit another cancer stick and changed the stations.
I pull the cigarette out in haste, causing four more to follow and end up on the floor. “Fuck,” I whisper as I light the chosen one with my shaking hand. “Fuck,” I repeat to no one but my self as I bend down to pick up the others. “Fuck,” I say out loud as the tear start to fall down my face. I take a long drag, and put my hand to face.
very bad for your health and should be outlawed all over the world cancer causer killer i hate that they where created
henry
Dawn just confuses me all the time. She is such a smart, funny, respectful, open minded woman. And yet she smokes. And when she doesn’t, she gets grumpy and irritable and i feel like i can’t talk to her of even be around her because she is silently hating me.
Peter Pan
Have cigarette, the man in the mask said to her. She looked away ignoring his flirtatious looks. Have a cigarette. She walks away. Why doesn’t she have a cigarette? She doesn’t have lighter and is afraid of the black mask. Cigarette and mask. Scary. Night.
FaridaEzzat
The light illuminated his face in the night.
-Are you serious about this?
The other guy doubted, but after a while said “Yes”
-Allright, go get her.
It stinks. It is gross. It makes your lungs gross and you can get lung cancer and you can die from it and you can get bronchitis and people find you stinky with gross teeth. Your hair stinks. Your clothes stink. You’re just a real stinky person. People get addicted to them but can’t stop because of the nicotine. It’s just gross. And it makes your unborn babies retarded. Don’t do it. It’s not good for your health.
AntiCigarette
He did everything right. He was patient beyond what a normal person could be. He was tolerant of his atmosphere. The heat, the insects, the long lonely silence. He waited longer than he’d waited for anything in his entire life. And as his target entered his sights, this sniper was ready to take action. If only he didn’t do that one thing. Maybe then his target wouldn’t have seen him. Maybe then his target wouldn’t have returned fire. This particular sniper would still be alive. He did everything right, except one thing. He shouldn’t have lit that cigarette. Smoking, it kills.
He lit up and let it dangle from his lower lip. The smoke drifted up in his face, fogged his vision, brought tears to his eyes, but he ignored it. People walked by and stared at this young man, with his shaggy hair and tired eyes, but he didn’t return the look. He didn’t want them to see him for what he was: a monster. Finally, when the cigarette was no more, he dropped it, crushed it underfoot, and shambled away, trying to wipe away the last traces of blood that flavored his lips, salty and metallic.
A cigarette is a tasty specimen. Often found in the form of a long tube of paper, it is considered a succulent affair to suck at the tit of a fag. That said, I don’t actually smoke, but I am happy to take the word of my mates who do.
Mark
When I wake up I am the pure meaning of what they describe the devil. I take that first drag and all badness has come to an end and I’m ready for my day. I alays have to smoke and drive. Itss a habbit I can not afford and it’s a dirty breath causer.!
Zoe D.
The foggy grey snake twisted upward from her cigarette just before she tapped it light and careless into the sidewalk. The ashes flitted downward before catching up on a breeze and into my dogs eyes with a yelp.
Saronai
The cigarette slipped from his cracked lips and bounced against the wet concrete, spewing red hot ember and disease until nothing was left of it but burnt black tobacco husk and fumes of nicotine that curled noiselessly into the night sky. The man sputtered and coughed, yellowed fingers working to rip wrinkled hands from the death grip they had around his throat, a yellow tongue hanging out of a yellow mouth making yellow noises. And then… he was gone, body crumpling to the ground, a heap of yellowed, stretched skin, faceless but for the eyes that reflected the cigarette across from him.
bad good stress is not a problem just a thing white menthol birds. I started smoking when i was fourteen and im now eighteen . half a pack a day then some more when i take ady. expensive smoking. habbit. bad for my son to bee around.
Zoe D.
İt is a enemy of world though many people don’t want to understand. But nevertheless some do. How many lives ruined by a thiny dreadful sigarette.
Mustafa
I woke up grabbed my pack of cigarettes. As i lit one up and turned to the nameless face laying next to me in bed, I grinned with a certain satisfaction, similar to how a lion must feel after his kill.
zac
Whenever she inhaled a long, deep breath she felt like she was free. Breaking rules. The look of disgust people shot her just intensified that feeling of victory.
Stateless
I woke up grabbed my pack of cigarettes. As i lit one up and turned to the nameless face laying next to me in bed I grinned with a certain satisfaction, similar to how a lion must feel after his kill.
I heard that when you light a cigarette with a match, you have to light your cigarette first so as to inhale the sulfur fumes- to protect the other person. As it was, that didn’t help my mom at all. She always let other people light their cigarettes first. Did that save her from getting lung cancer? No, of course it didn’t.
I used to smoke cigarettes. Only socially, and only Mayfair, because I blagged them off my friend. Then she started smoking roll-ups with menthol filters. This is the moment that I stopped smoking.
Lydia
my subconcious loves to soke up the smokes when the olw hoots is whooo=hoooo an beetleguise hangin upthere somewher an the fireflies dancewildly. She remembers all the glamourous screen
godesses who smoked with such allure…their emitted smokiness soft lifted by the skizwoid wind. she likes to light up in the darkwind emotion sky just to show me so refinedly chizzled
cheekbones. she goes her own defiant way when i snooze. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
the wiz that he waz
Mmm I just got one. Excited to smoke it, the feeling in my lungs is amazing but I know how horrible it is for me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. I want to, but everyone who offers me one gives me this smile and I cant say no. But I know it’s just the smoke talking. I wish I never touched one and it breaks my heart to see my friends and loved ones start. I pray nobody ever does. :( Poop. It’s poop
The cigarette smoke floated on the breeze and curled around the branches above the stranger’s head. He had never seen the dark male before, but the moments their gazes met he knew he was caught in a trap he could never escape. A smooth smirk overtook that handsome face, and he felt his heart lost in that very moment.
I use to enjoy the occasional candy cigarette from the comer store by my childhood home. It was called the Country Store, and was decked out in full hillbilly style, complete with swinging doors and fake horse corral. My brand of choice was cheerokee sweet, a cherry flavored stick of hard white sugar, with lighted tip of course. And my favorite part of the whole experience was puffing the powdered sugar residu into wonderful ringlets of “smoke.” Yep, I was pretty much doomed from the start….
She looked across at him in disgust. He was always puffing on those damn things.
“You know they will kill you.”
“If I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be smoking in the first place.” He drawled putting the cigarette up to his lips.
Dangerous, doing things to upset my mother, beer, parties, strange people, breaks at the barn, loud music that I don’t really like but will pretend to because I don’t want to seem uncool, listening to drama that has nothing to do with me, sweet, salty, bad for the lungs, refreshing.
He tasted just like my first cigarette. A sweet kind of disgust that I knew would have me hooked on what seemed like a harmless habit yet would ultimately be the death of me.
Cool French people. Grimy hipsters. Movie stars. Down-on-their-lucks. My dad. Camels named Joe. All despite the Surgeon General’s warning.
I have already written about cigarettes. I don’t wanna think about them, okay? They’ve hurt my family enough already. everything they do destroys us… that and alchol. but who cares, really?
It smells. They’re meant to be good. But they smell so bad. They must be if so many people are killing themselves for them. I take a sniff walking past, keep the temptation at bay for a while.
tHe sponsor of my mid day nap.
I take a look at my mother sitting in her rocking chair, she didn’t have much time and she new it. She took out one last cigarette and said “Baby, this isn’t how I wanted to go” I started sobbing, but she remained collected.
A cigarette in the lips of a stranger; it was enough to set me off. I snatched it from her and tossed it into the street.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said to me, more confused than angry.
“My grandpa,” I said. But then I choked and couldn’t say anything else.
i smoked some serious cigarettes, his namee was jim. he was a marlboro and had a son called john player. i smoked that bastard down. he gave me a blowjob.
A cigarette? No thanks. I’d rather breathe the air. The air that flows through the trees, and at just the right speed, so that it picks up the scent of the freshly cut lawns, the neighbor’s lemonade, the campfire down the street, and it offers those smells to my happy little nose.
Cigarettes are bad for your health. They are an addictive habit. Thousands of people die a year because of the cancer they cause. People get addicted to the nicotine in cigarettes. It is extremely hard to quit. But some guys look pretty badass when they smoke.
Victoria always said that she thought cigarette was a pretty word. I thought it was too. It sounds french. I like the ette part of it, it sounds french victorian, but mostly just exotic and pretty. It kind of rolls off your tongue when you say it. I hate the mental image of it but the word is pretty.
He cigarette hung loosely from her lips while she sa on the old rickety porch. She looked out upon the mid-summer’s sky and let her mind run faraway.
cigarette. the very word makes me cringe. the smell, the effects, the…eww. just. eww! i don’t know why ANYONE would WANT to smoke one. it’s revolting. absolutely revolting.
He threw the cigarette out of the car. It smoldered for a second, but caught some dry grass. By the time he got home, 200 acres were blackened ash. The television recorded the disaster.
He lit another cancer stick and changed the stations.
I pull the cigarette out in haste, causing four more to follow and end up on the floor. “Fuck,” I whisper as I light the chosen one with my shaking hand. “Fuck,” I repeat to no one but my self as I bend down to pick up the others. “Fuck,” I say out loud as the tear start to fall down my face. I take a long drag, and put my hand to face.
very bad for your health and should be outlawed all over the world cancer causer killer i hate that they where created
Dawn just confuses me all the time. She is such a smart, funny, respectful, open minded woman. And yet she smokes. And when she doesn’t, she gets grumpy and irritable and i feel like i can’t talk to her of even be around her because she is silently hating me.
Have cigarette, the man in the mask said to her. She looked away ignoring his flirtatious looks. Have a cigarette. She walks away. Why doesn’t she have a cigarette? She doesn’t have lighter and is afraid of the black mask. Cigarette and mask. Scary. Night.
The light illuminated his face in the night.
-Are you serious about this?
The other guy doubted, but after a while said “Yes”
-Allright, go get her.
It stinks. It is gross. It makes your lungs gross and you can get lung cancer and you can die from it and you can get bronchitis and people find you stinky with gross teeth. Your hair stinks. Your clothes stink. You’re just a real stinky person. People get addicted to them but can’t stop because of the nicotine. It’s just gross. And it makes your unborn babies retarded. Don’t do it. It’s not good for your health.
He did everything right. He was patient beyond what a normal person could be. He was tolerant of his atmosphere. The heat, the insects, the long lonely silence. He waited longer than he’d waited for anything in his entire life. And as his target entered his sights, this sniper was ready to take action. If only he didn’t do that one thing. Maybe then his target wouldn’t have seen him. Maybe then his target wouldn’t have returned fire. This particular sniper would still be alive. He did everything right, except one thing. He shouldn’t have lit that cigarette. Smoking, it kills.
He lit up and let it dangle from his lower lip. The smoke drifted up in his face, fogged his vision, brought tears to his eyes, but he ignored it. People walked by and stared at this young man, with his shaggy hair and tired eyes, but he didn’t return the look. He didn’t want them to see him for what he was: a monster. Finally, when the cigarette was no more, he dropped it, crushed it underfoot, and shambled away, trying to wipe away the last traces of blood that flavored his lips, salty and metallic.
A cigarette is a tasty specimen. Often found in the form of a long tube of paper, it is considered a succulent affair to suck at the tit of a fag. That said, I don’t actually smoke, but I am happy to take the word of my mates who do.
When I wake up I am the pure meaning of what they describe the devil. I take that first drag and all badness has come to an end and I’m ready for my day. I alays have to smoke and drive. Itss a habbit I can not afford and it’s a dirty breath causer.!
The foggy grey snake twisted upward from her cigarette just before she tapped it light and careless into the sidewalk. The ashes flitted downward before catching up on a breeze and into my dogs eyes with a yelp.
The cigarette slipped from his cracked lips and bounced against the wet concrete, spewing red hot ember and disease until nothing was left of it but burnt black tobacco husk and fumes of nicotine that curled noiselessly into the night sky. The man sputtered and coughed, yellowed fingers working to rip wrinkled hands from the death grip they had around his throat, a yellow tongue hanging out of a yellow mouth making yellow noises. And then… he was gone, body crumpling to the ground, a heap of yellowed, stretched skin, faceless but for the eyes that reflected the cigarette across from him.
bad good stress is not a problem just a thing white menthol birds. I started smoking when i was fourteen and im now eighteen . half a pack a day then some more when i take ady. expensive smoking. habbit. bad for my son to bee around.
İt is a enemy of world though many people don’t want to understand. But nevertheless some do. How many lives ruined by a thiny dreadful sigarette.
I woke up grabbed my pack of cigarettes. As i lit one up and turned to the nameless face laying next to me in bed, I grinned with a certain satisfaction, similar to how a lion must feel after his kill.
Whenever she inhaled a long, deep breath she felt like she was free. Breaking rules. The look of disgust people shot her just intensified that feeling of victory.
I woke up grabbed my pack of cigarettes. As i lit one up and turned to the nameless face laying next to me in bed I grinned with a certain satisfaction, similar to how a lion must feel after his kill.
even the wind likes to smoke cigarette.
I heard that when you light a cigarette with a match, you have to light your cigarette first so as to inhale the sulfur fumes- to protect the other person. As it was, that didn’t help my mom at all. She always let other people light their cigarettes first. Did that save her from getting lung cancer? No, of course it didn’t.
I used to smoke cigarettes. Only socially, and only Mayfair, because I blagged them off my friend. Then she started smoking roll-ups with menthol filters. This is the moment that I stopped smoking.
my subconcious loves to soke up the smokes when the olw hoots is whooo=hoooo an beetleguise hangin upthere somewher an the fireflies dancewildly. She remembers all the glamourous screen
godesses who smoked with such allure…their emitted smokiness soft lifted by the skizwoid wind. she likes to light up in the darkwind emotion sky just to show me so refinedly chizzled
cheekbones. she goes her own defiant way when i snooze. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Mmm I just got one. Excited to smoke it, the feeling in my lungs is amazing but I know how horrible it is for me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. I want to, but everyone who offers me one gives me this smile and I cant say no. But I know it’s just the smoke talking. I wish I never touched one and it breaks my heart to see my friends and loved ones start. I pray nobody ever does. :( Poop. It’s poop