She is so beautiful, he said to himself, eyeing the stick of cigarette between his fingers. And those eyes…He threw the unlit cigarette into the bushes and sighed. The crickets soon began their night time symphony, and he closed his eyes. What if he let her go? He shook his head. He was new here …and the others? He just couldn’t. “Abeg, you get lighter there?” the gravelly voice of John or Lord Johnson as he now liked to be called, cut through his solitude. He reached into his breast pocket and brought out the small yellow lighter he picked from the general living room. “Thank you,” Lord Johnson said, lighting his cigarette, “This girl papa no wan bring the money again?” he asked no one in particular as the thin cigarette smoke leaving his nostrils dissipated into the air.
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