Magpie Tales 2 ***

Goddammit. 

Orhan struck the match and it burnt quickly, to his finger before he had the chance to light the cigarette dangling from his mouth. The wind had been growing steadily in intensity, and he stood outside the hotel, the rain pelting his face, dribbling down his neck. He had stormed out when she threw the ashtray at him inside. He hadn't grabbed his coat.

Goddammit, he repeated and threw the used match to the ground. He shoved the still unlit cigarette into his pocket, hunched his shoulders against the rain and pushed through the door of the hotel. The bellman, just inside the door, looked up in surprise as Orhan's burly, soaked frame pushed through and he stood, the water  puddling at his feet on the white marble floor.

Orhan pulled the cigarette out of his pocket and put it into his mouth. He struck the match and it lit and flickered as he bent toward it with his mouth.

There's no smoking inside the hotel, sir, the bellman offered.

Goddammit, Orhan threw the burnt match onto the floor where it sizzled for a moment in the pool of water but left the cigarette burning in his mouth as he moved toward the elevator. The bellman leaned down to pick up the match and made an ineffectual protest at Orhan's back but when the elevator doors closed and the man and his wispy trail of acrid smoke disappeared, he shrugged and stood near the door, watching the rain.

***Willow of Life at Willow Manor has begun a community creative writing blog called Magpie Tales and is giving a photographic prompt each Thursday. Each writer will use the prompt to create a piece of fiction or poem and post the following Tuesday. Read more about it HERE.