Ricci Schwarzler - Matchless

It was freezing. Cynthia pulled her jacket around her neck. She scrunched her neck down into the collar like a bird scrunches into its feathers. If she breathes into her collar then that freezing air won’t get into her lungs and make her cough. God how she hated this winter. Her unknown companions stood around the bus-stop vaping. What is it with these people she thought. Can’t they stop this ridiculous habit. The sickly-sweet chemical smell of their vapes wafted into the bus shelter, which seemed to her, to be purposefully designed to allow the wind to roar straight through it.

All she could do was to complain to herself about the cold, the bus shelter, the smell. On and on her brain worked, picking up every negative thing she could think of.

She was matchless in her negativity. She excelled at it in the face of adversity, in the face of prosperity and comfort. Nobody could compete.

She kept thinking how cold she was and how those Vapers were making her angry. They just pulled them out of their pockets, thought it was ok because it wasn’t cigarette smoke and puffed away right next to her. They didn’t even need matches. Smokers couldn’t do that.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out a cigarette and put it back away. Damn she couldn’t even have a smoke. She was match-less!!!