She picked up the soiled ochre-stained end of his old habit and tried salvaging what was left of those listless smoke rings. Prodding the bolstered side between her lips, she clenched her teeth into that bitter sponge.
For his disapproval.
His nubile eighteen-year-old mind looked through her at the hillock beyond.
She inhaled the innards of the tobacco filter and coughed out faint puffs of juvenile rejection.
With a slanting gaze she held on to the cigarette.
His disinterest gave Lolita her muse.
* For 3WW
**Photo Credit: 'Candy Cigarette' by Sally Mann