Dexter brought his cigarette back to lit. In this one night, he had smoked twice. Even though in fact he also didn't like smoking, but when his heart was broken deepest, smoking can calm him down.
Dexter puffed his cigarette smoke into the air, toying with it by creating spheres that slowly disintegrated and merged with the rest of the air.
Dexter looked closely at the wisp of cigarette smoke he was creating. As if to say, 'This cigarette smoke is no different from me, which in the end slowly disappears because it is considered just like air. Air is invisible, which is why many don't appreciate it. although without realizing it, my presence also wiped the sweat on her forehead '.
Dexter smiled sadly. "But that was the story of the past. Now it has changed. There will be no more me, the way I used to be." Then Dexter finished his cigarette. Put out the fire and threw the cigarette butts in the trash.
