a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and searched his pockets for a lighter, but to noavail.
“Shit,” he mumbled to himself.
“Need a light?” A woman turned around and flicked her lighter until it offered upa flame. Sam had wanted a cigarette so badly he hadn’t even realiz
ed there was someone
else on the balcony. He leaned over and lit his cigarette and met the woman’s eyes for the
first time. He stood like that for about half a minute, momentary lost and caught off guard. She was beautiful.
“Thanks,” he managed to croak o
ut. He cracked a dopey smile and laughed a littlenervously, as if acknowledging the fact that he had been staring.She smiled back and quickly ran a few fingers through her hair. Her hair was
long, wavy, and black. Sam couldn’t help but notice the way it
caught the moonlight,
giving it an almost silver tinge. Although he couldn’t be sure if it was moonlight or thestreetlights, but he didn’t care. Her lips were full and painted red with lipstick, which
stained her cigarette, and her fingernails were painted black, with her ring finger nailspainted electric blue. She was wearing a faded black denim jacket over a tight black dressand heels. It was a simple look, but it was accentuated by her natural radiance.
“Look at everyone down there,” she said, lean
ing on the railing and looking at the
people on the sidewalk below, “makes you feel big, doesn’t it? Being so high up here?”“I don’t know,” Sam replied, moving next to her, “the world around us has alwaysmade me feel pretty small. Kinda lonely.” Sam ha
d always had a thing for admittingsecrets to strangers. It was much easier than opening up to his friends; talking to someone
he didn’t know felt like writing something down in a diary. It was therapeutic.