She looked uncomfortable smoking from a pipe, but I was out of papers. She held it delicately to her lips, the lighter barely licking at the glass before she’d drop it and slowly let the smoke wisp from her parted mouth. I watched intently, it turned me on.
Families passed by on parallel trails that weaved through the park, stepping a little quicker when they caught sight of us. I knew it bothered her. I didn’t mind so much.
She coughed softly a few times, and smiled. I raised the lighter, and cleaned out the rest. It was mostly ash. I tapped the pipe against the flat of my shoe and stuffed it in a pocket. Without a word passing between us, I took her hand, and we headed back towards the car. Life was easy.