"The moon looks absolutely lovely tonight," I think to myself as I watch the rain fall down from the stars. Drag after drag of that cigarette fills me up with a sort of euphoria that I only get from nicotine. I flick the ash to the wet cement and breathe in the crisp air, exhaling into the night. My black and blue flannel is soaked down to my skin, stretching against my chest and tightening down my arms. I've always loved the rain; the smell reminds me of autumn, or a new beginning. It's refreshing and oddly peaceful to stand on the corner under a flickering lamp post, basking in a slow drizzle. It's nights like these with dark clouds overhead and thunder booming throughout my body that make me feel lucky to be alive. I turn to see this girl, no older then twenty, collapse on the ground. I look around nearly frantic and surprised there isn't a panic. I curse under my breath at the lack of humanity this world has left. I look around at the blank faces walking by this girl with that's laying on the street obviously hypothermic from her glassy green eyes to her constant shivering like a crack addicted hula dancer. I run up to her and pick her up, cradling her like a new born child. I hold her ice cold body close to my molten core, hurrying her into the tattoo shop and lay her onto the bench, slowly, gently, carefully. Her breathing sounds forced, as if she's choking or drowning. "Shit." I murmur as I race to the back room and search in my cabinet by the window to look for something, anything that could keep her warm. Everything gets thrown to the floor as I helplessly look for a towel or a sheet or something to wrap this poor girl up in. I'd give her my flannel, but it's soaked and she needs heat. Then it was like a switch went off in my mind, there's always an extra sweatshirt in the back seat of my car and there may even be a blanket in the trunk. I glance one more time at the shaking girl on my bench before I sprint outside into the pouring rain once more.
