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Cold,
Cold Night
Hannah
walked through the heavy double doors. The
cloying warmth that had enveloped her was pushed
back by the biting wind that rushed forward in
greeting, She was under the care of the elements
now and shuddered visibly in recognition of
this. Keeping close to the wall for shelter, she
walked a few yards to the left, she would be out
of the way here.
She
rummaged in her deep pocket and came up
triumphantly with a packet of Menthol fags and a
lighter. She shook one cigarette out of the
packet, and held it between trembling lips. Her
hand shook with the cold as she lit up, cupping
her lighter hand with the free one to stop the
wind blowing out her precious flame.
It
was a bitterly cold November night. She almost
cursed her dreaded nicotine addiction, which had
forced her out of that warm, safe place into the
night’s cruelty. Though undoubtedly the
coldest night of the year so far, it was a
beautifully clear evening. Just turned ten
o’clock and everything was fairly quiet. The
odd car moved slowly out of the car park, a
person here and there going about their
business. Two young women in sensible black
shoes that squeaked as they walked past her. Not
much else, it was peaceful and quiet. She looked
up and the image took her breath away. The sky
not quite black, three shades off. The richest,
darkest blue-purple that nature had in her
palette. The residual smell of sulphur from a
thousand dancing fireworks was but a memory for
another year. The focal point in the sky was the
waning crescent moon, ragged with the promise of
frost before morning. The creamy white grey hue
around the moon’s edge, smudged by nature’s
finger to merge away into the indigo sky. The
stars dropped carelessly by a great hand, to
land in a random scatter. Hannah pulled hard on
her cigarette in an effort not to become
emotional again.
She
had tried several times to give up smoking, but
the lure was always just that bit too strong to
be denied. In times of trouble it seemed tobacco
was her best friend. It was a constant in her
life guaranteed to make her feel better. To
calm, to soothe, to seduce her mind into
believing that all would turn out well. Hanna
took the final two rapid draws on the cigarrette,
and allowed the smoke to glide easily down her
sinuses and into her lungs. She could feel the
weight of it there as she held her breath.” If
smoke is weightless who can explain the feeling
of the extra gram bouncing around in my
lungs?” she thought. Reluctantly she allowed
the smoke back up. It billowed in exhalation
from her mouth and nose, mixing with her breath
in the frosty air. She stubbed the but out under
her slippered foot and then bent to tidy up her
mess, putting the filtered tip into the bin
which was conveniently beside her.
A
man walked past her, he glanced briefly in her
direction. She coloured and felt ridiculous.
When he had gone she smirked to herself, this
reminded her of that dream where she was
directing traffic at a busy intersection stark
naked. She looked down upon herself and felt
silly stood out in the cold night air in just
her night-clothes.
As
her gaze travelled the length of her towelling
dressing gown, she found herself looking once
again at her left breast. She had looked at it a
lot over the last two weeks, touched it, felt
it, probed it with her fingers, had others probe
it with theirs.
A
tear rolled down her ice-cold cheek, and she
said rather comically “Goodbye Boob”
Hannah turned and walked back into the warmth of
the hospital. |
