He told me how he loved a girl once, who smoked Marlboro menthols. He hated them.
The love ended.
He was alone, and kept on buying a pack just to feel the taste—her taste.
“They do sell Camels in Germany,” he went on. “What’s holding me back now?”
I smoke Camels.
After that we smoked together. He inhaled Lucky Strikes, I exhaled Turkish Gold. Then I jumped in the pool. Clothes and all. I didn’t want to breathe for a while. And wanted to close my reflective eyes.