Not Thinking

I closed my eyes and focused all my energy on not thinking about Astrid.

I hummed the melody of the song in my head. The song gave way to lyrics about love and heartbreak, as most songs do. Astrid flittered behind my eyelids.

I tried to count sheep. Sheep number 32 became Astrid’s steady eyes on mine.

I took a deep breath and concentrated on the air moving in and out. In and out.

Walking along a brick wall, I came across a man. “What’s your trouble, lady?” he asked.

“None. None at all.”

“I see the bags under your eyes. What’s your trouble?”

“A girl.”

“Always is the trouble,” he offered me a cigarette and I took it, graciously. The smoke twirled around me. Inhale the sweet nicotine. Exhale the unwanted thoughts.

“What’s the name?” he asked.

I didn’t know. So I continued to take life-saving drags on the relaxing cigarette.

“Thank you.” I whispered, dropping the remains of the stick on the ground. Turning away, I felt the stress settle right back in to where it was.

“Sleeping at noon. I’m beginning to have a bad influence on you,” Renolds called from her perch by the window. I watched her lazily turn a cigarette over and over in her mouth.

“Is that even lit?”

“No smoking on the floor. Besides, my vices don’t include lit matches. I’d rather not deal with burns and ashes.”

She hopped up and roused me off the couch.

“What are we doing today?”

“I was figuring you needed a day off.”

“I do…” I sighed, falling back over into a sleeping position.

“Up! I didn’t mean you could sleep all day. We’re not lazy here.”

“Gah! Don’t you work or something.”

“Every night on the corner,” Renolds grinned wickedly.

“Hilarious. Honestly though, what do you do with your life?”

“Live!” she skipped off, throwing new clothes to me as she left. “Please shower! Your hair needs help,” she called from her bedroom.

Longing for the cigarette in my dream, I did as I was told.