The icy wind was fanning my skin, swaying a few mischievous strands of my hair to tickle my face. Another moonless, noisy night. Another uneventful night in my lonely life. Uneventful is good. I silently hope that every night would be as peaceful as this. Taking a long drag off my Marlboro red, I inhaled the tobacco smoke until it reached my lungs, and puffed it out in the cold New York air. The cigar scent skimmed into my skimpy black dress, overpowering my lavender perfume. Lurking, I am waiting for my so-called new friends to come into sight in front of this club. They’re already ten minutes late. Together with the long line of waiting club patrons from the alley where I stood. Clubbing isn’t really my thing, but I made a promise to myself that I’d get out more when I moved to New York.
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