Holes

It was only a small hole, a slight cigarette burn. But it was her favourite coat.

“ Dave, look what you’ve done. You’ve ruined it.”

“I’m sorry babe,” he said, relighting his cigarette, “It was an accident.”

“Why can’t you be more careful,” she replied, “You never think.”

Dave closed his eyes, took a long drag, and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth.

“Look, I’m sorry, it was an accident. It’s only a coat.”

“Fuck you Dave, it’s my coat. Mine. You never give a shit about my stuff, I mean how’d you like it if I did it to yours?”

Dave took his newly lit cigarette and pushed it gently into the arm of his jacket, watching enraptured as the red embers slowly ate into its fibres and spread out like little glowing ants. When he looked up Amy was gone.

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Tim Waltho

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