Genki swept a match across his boot and, cupping the flame in his hand, torched the end of a hand rolled cigarette that was dangling from his lip. His first drag was a long one and his exhalation seemed to fill the small room with smoke that hung heavy in the hot air. A girl lay unconscious on an economy bed across the room, payed for but not used. Genki sat in a small chair (the only other piece of furniture) with his back to the wall, right next to a window opened just a crack. He was listening intently, waiting for something to happen in the streets.
Genki took another drag of his cigarette, but this time too greedily. He tried to stuff the cough deep inside him but could not keep it from escaping. He snuffed out the cherry and hoped that the sound did not leave the room.




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