Sunday, October 19, 2008

Chi found a pouch of Golden Virginia and a roll of Rizla in the dressing drawer...

The paper felt smooth, reassuring.
This was madness.. a pernicious decision adding to his already precarious position.
More importantly.. he hadnt rolled in a decade!

He didnt do it for the money. It was the adrenalin rush that drew him to it. To take what wasnt his, it made him feel... alive...

Rolling cigarettes is an art. The trick is to line it on the crease of a paper and then drop it straight on to the roll. That ensures that it isint top heavy or packed too tightly.

He emptied out the cupboard, Although the house was an ode to the rodomontade not much was there.. the owner must be an investment banker.

Chi took his time. Pulling too hard would cause it to burn unevenly.

He tiptoed across the hall. The loud snores emanating from the bedroom drowned out everything else.

The nicotine rush was already kicking in.

He used the stub to start the fire. Not one member of the family survived...

Chi was getting back at the world, one at a time.