Love doesn't know the difference between white and black. Love doesn't even know when to raise the white flag when a red one is visible. But, I wonder, whose blacker--this coffee or the heart of my ex-lover.
She's addicted to coffee
because it keeps her awake
and in a daze, away from reality.
He's addicted to cigarettes
because it soothes him
unlike anything else can.
So what happens when
they cross paths unexpectedly,
and one falls for the other
quickly and aggressively?
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[highest ranking: short story #160]