He pulls out a cigarette with a white filter and lights it with a Zippo. I notice that his hands have a slight shake. Normally, I’m not a big fan of smoking, but Riether somehow makes it look cool and sexy, like in the old movies my dad and I used to watch. As he walks, he scratches the stubble on his chin and looks up at the sky. He opens his mouth to speak but then stops. He opens it again, then closes it around his cigarette, takes a drag, and releases.
reads like a screenplay
