Club
The high blue tide of the police car's flashing lights rolled over the molten neon lava of the night club behind me. I almost expected a sizzle or a hiss. People were still pouring out; flustered jabbering, wild guesses, many questions. Some far off, others quite close to the truth. A bomb scare? Murder? A leaking gas pipe? Drugs?
Two young women were giggling, their arms thrown around each other's shoulders. They had kept an unstable balance until one of them slipped and pulled the other one down with her onto the curb. The road was dry, the dresses dark, the embarrassment hence negligible.
I lit a cigarette. The first one in two years. No matter how long the time, one thing is for sure: the first cigarette never tastes good. I wanted this one though, as I was not sure how long it would be for the next opportunity to have another one. The coppers had already started questioning people. My estimate was that one of them would be with me within the next five minutes. I blew the smoke through my nostrils and held in for a good five seconds before I breathed in again. It did not help.