Cigs

Nadia smoked. Outside. Alone.

Strippers. They were mostly nice girls. Nadia didn’t want to know them. She stayed away. Worked at the bar. Left home. Watched TV and ate gummies.

The cig was bitter. Her throat, dry. Smoking was better with Alice — for sure. But now it was the only thing that kept Nadia from tears.

It was a warm night by the dumpsters at the back. The security guard watching and looking out for Nadia as she took her break. He didn’t talk much.

“I am really losing my mind… You found him!” Sasha came out on the phone.

She had long dark painted fingernails. Glossy. Claws. A sharp artist bob. Black. Almond coloured eyes that with one look said “Fuck me…”

She turned to Nadia, “Can I have one?”

“Sure… Go ahead…” Nadia poked out a cigarette.

They smoked together — Sasha was shouting and laughing on the phone. She had a Middle Eastern accent. She was beautiful. Curves in the all the right places. Latte skin. And weighty 36DD breasts. She wasn’t naked — but wore a silk bathrobe.

She cut the call.

“Nadia. Jackson told me you worked with Alice at the Pony,” Sasha said.

“Um… yeah… I did,” Nadia said. It was jarring. She didn’t expect to be talked to. Especially after she had ignored them.

“I have great bloody news!”

“We found the bastard! The killer! I want to step on his fucking balls!”

Nadia stared back. What?! They found the killer?!