A cigarette in the midst of the universe

There's this very peculiar moment, just a couple hours before sunrise, when the cold air of the remaining darkness thickens, and almost all noise is completely dead. It is, undoubtedly, the perfect moment for smoking the last cigarette of the day, sighing away the anxieties which prey on those who so constantly pull an all-nighter. And there, by the window, the world appears to be engulfed in the deepest silence, while the pale gleam of the stars shines the brightest amidst the dark canvas of the night sky. Every sigh of bluish mist swirls and turns on itself, allowing serpentlike shapes to form and disappear in the ephemeral smoke.

And then, silence hits the hardest...

The air feels thick with melancholic emptiness. Time is no more. No moon, no sun. Just you and the hollow stare of the universe, looking at each other, into each other.

Contemplating loneliness.

Dante R.R.G.