a return
The cold air pinched at her fingers, but she fumbled for her cigarette box anyways. A millisecond of warmth crackled from the lighter, and Rene sat forward, hands on her knees, and took a long, intentional drag. The rewarding puff of smoke was amplified by her breath in the crisp night air, and she watched it flood the night sky and mute the stars’ pinpricks of light before dissipating into oblivion. She placed the box on the stoop, and leaned back against the stairs. February was sad and slow in Harlem. Besides the promise of Valentine's day, nothing else was held dear. Paper and plastic heart decorations littered the doorsteps of the townhomes, and Rene could only face forward to avoid them. It was 2am, so the foot traffic on the sidewalk was sparse. The only witnesses to her existence at a given moment was God and the occasional stray. Her mind was oddly silent, to which she scowled about. Months of nights of solitude had passed by without consequence and her mind had remain...