/lit/ - Literature

Waiting for the 8:30 Maglev, Everest lit a starlight cigar. Inhaling deeply before moving it away from his lips, he breathed out a plume of nebulous smoke, iridescent shades of blue and purple filled the air in front of him. A ghastly white shimmered at the edges of the breaking up cloud, and dots of yellow, sometimes even crimson red, within it. Beautiful as it was, Everest wondered if it was worth it. These starlight cigars were supposedly nearly inconsequential for his health, but his doubt was great. Hard as he tried, though, he couldn’t break the habit. A holdover from his past. They’d probably end up killing him if they ended up being toxic, considering how many he’s smoked over the years.
“May I borrow a lighter, son?” The polite Volrathian walked up beside Everest. Despite the deep wrinkles and intricate, swirling tattoos covering his body, indicating his age, his muscles rippled. Time had done little to them.
“Sure.” He reached into his back pocket. “Here.”
“Thank you, son.” The Volrathian’s brand was different. Grays and browns took command over most of his plume, with deep, blood reds and oranges at its heart, but eventually they cooled and dissipated.
“Terra?”
“Yes. Starlight is too fiery for someone as old as me.” He passed the lighter back to me, before setting to flame a second cigar with his first, always keeping one in his mouth as he made the exchange.
The Maglev arrived, and they hoped on.