Coughing, hacking, wheezing…
Using. Always using.
She smoked her friends down to the filter.
When there was nothing left to inhale, she spat them out and ground them under her heel.
There was always another waiting in the pack, and so many others in the mob, lining up to offer a light from their torches.
Kindly mind your pitchforks.
The more she smoked, the thicker the cloud.
Pretty soon, you could hardly see her at all.
When the pack was empty, the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of her.
They should put warnings on the packs:
“Don’t climb in.”