Thin wisps of smoke climb from the trembling tip of Henry’s cigarette, up and up through fading shafts of evening light. He watches them go and dreams of joining them, lazily curling up, wafting away, free on the constant breeze that flows through the old building, making it the perfect place to fix.
Henry watched it go, visualized his own journey, drifting free among the clouds and picked up his belt. His hand steadied the moment he bit down on leather, the vein stood out, and he plucked up the needle. It was time to make his dreams come true.
#FridayFictioneers is a weekly blog link up hosted by Rochelle over at RochelleWisoff.com. You should totally check it out and perhaps try your hand at your very own 100 word story!