Tristians Wish
Smoke rose silently from my cigarette, curling now and then as it wafted towards the ceiling above. Some idiot inside the flat screen babbled on about a third world country in need of our support and my coffee grew colder by the second, but I wasn’t tuned in to those things. Instead I concentrated on the soft clicking noise as the bedroom doorknob slowly turned. You could just see it stop and then the slightest vertical crack began to widen, as the door swung inward on old but reliable hinges....