* A Cigarette hung lazily on his bottom lip, the night was cold so the smoke lingered in a cloud above his. The muffled sounds of a sad steel guitar and a melancholic harmonica faintly flooded the stary night. As he watched her walk away letting the nicotine sooth the the choking sadness that began to develop in his throat. She always hated his sad cowboy records and he understood why, Nothing fitted her personality any better then whe Johnny Cash hit a low note or when patsy cline would cry faded love, constant reminders of what she was afraid of.
"Hope the heart ache was worth it"
her last words that would probably live rent free in his mind and sinking heart.*
If you've got a thing for smoke filled nights, neon lights, and sexy badass androids. shoot me a message I've been work on a plot and would love input. Don't be shy!