The Cigarette….

He walked down the path,
Engrossed in his phone,
The one that rarely chimed,
Stopped at the corner,
To click a photo,
Sat there,
The little steps coming out of a closed shop,
Took out a cigarette to smoke away,
His insecurities, the pain, the sufferings,
Some responsibilities too,
Some memories too,
Puff by puff the cigarette lost its form,
The man slowly losing consciousness,
Took out his phone again,
Dialled a number,
Stopped even before it rang,
The man puffed the last of the cigarette,
Rubbed it against the hard floor,
Looked at the dustbin in front of him,
And with the aim of a professional basketballer,
Threw it inside,
And watched it slowly mix with the garbage already there,
He dialled the number back again,
This time letting it ring,
Who’s this?
Asked an unfamiliar voice,
Sorry, wrong number,
He had said…..

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