T
Literature
The Smoke Man The man, exhausted from running, leaned his back against the tree. His back ached, but in spite of it all, he smiled. The fire before him crackled and snapped, oddly relaxing. The soothing scent of smoke drifted into his nose, wafting in the air softly. He closed his eyes, emptying out the day's worries. He could almost see them, drifting in the grey-stained wind. His boss's words faded under the crackling smoke, his wife's hands dropped the bottle and drifted off into the smoke. The insults, the threats, the deadlines, the mother-in-law calls, they all faded away as his eyelids fell heavy. He didn't look at the rest of the drifting objects,