Leaf and Tomato

This is based on a loose "interview" with a smoking female Reddit user.

I have sort of blended it into a 'day in the life of' story. There is fiction and there is reality. I hope the inspiration has been successfully intertwined into an interesting story.

The Leaf and The Tomato

7am. Cigarette 1-4

As the clock spins around, the 07:00 the repetitive high pitch electronic loud beep of the alarm goes off. After shuffling about to turn off the incessant noise, and with her eyes still shut, a hand instinctively moves her mouth. There is a gentle chesty cough. It is there, it is audible and noticeable. It is also predictable. She is intelligent enough to be fully aware that the tar and smoke from fortyish Marlboro Red cigarettes she smoked yesterday will have gently settled in her bronchi as she slept overnight. She knows the cough is coming, just like the sun rising in the morning. She can predict it will be there. As such she quickly ignores it. She is still young enough that currently the cough will happily go away and not come back again until tomorrow. She has other all-important pressing matters.

As such the main priority, as the initial morning chesty cough continues its gentle, and very much ignorable as they are quiet spluttering aftershocks, as she gently shuffles about in bed. Her arm is again outstretched in the cold, looking for her open cigarette pack. The hunt happens before her eyes are properly open. It has become her first thought of the day. How soon can she get the filter between her lips and the delightful smelling tobacco leaves lit. She now lies there in bed with one focus. One desire. The anticipation of the delicious nicotine rich smoke filling her lungs. Seven hours of sleep whilst refreshing and calming. Giving her the best set up her up for her busy day, is it feels just sometimes a little too long.

With her eyes still partially closed feeling the relief flows around her body as her cheeks repetitively keep collapsing with her lips firmly around the filter. Smoke pours out her mouth and nose. The Deep lung filling drags, keep going, one after another. Within a few short minutes that cigarette has fizzed its last and Rachel has quickly rolled over and stubbed it out. Its only then with the haze of smoke sitting high above the bed does Rachel starts the mission to get up for the day. But this morning, as with every morning she only gets as far as swinging her slim bare legs out from under the duvet and placing her recently painted toes on the soft carpet floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed. That is the total distance she gets. She first puts her glasses on, with a bit of relief the world becomes a little clearer and then she lights her second and very much needed cigarette. With a brief shake of the head at the unsurprising sight of the pack from last night is now empty. The first cigarette in the morning, however hard and fast it is smoked is never enough. Trying to continue waking up with a cigarette between her fingers whilst sitting on the toilet is the next mission.

With a warm thick hoody is thrown over her skimpy pyjamas top and she heads downstairs for coffee. Her mum has already gone to work. The house is very much quiet and got that empty feeling.

Cigarettes 3 and 4 are calmly smoked one after each other at the kitchen table between checking her phone and slurping down her breakfast of healthy bio yoghurt along with the several all-important wake up coffees.

8am Cigarette 5-6

Working in the beauty industry. You need to look good. Rachel is proud at the effort she goes to. She likes to think she looks hot. Everyone agrees that she does.

With a cigarette burning in the ashtray Rachel sets to work cleaning her face of overnight sweat and grime. Priming her face for the day. The dirty facewipes disposed of in her wicker bin beside her. Between almost desperate drags on her cigarette, she sets about getting her foundation all over her face before applying her setting powder. She has this moment of calm of layering her face like a cake to think of the day ahead.

She has four customers today. Some are better than others. The tip of her cigarette fizzes brightly in the mirror as her brain swirls as she contemplates three hours with Sandra in the afternoon. The thought of her makes her drag just a little harder on the cigarette. Sandra is completely judgemental and rude, about everything and everyone. There is one positive, she appreciates what Rachel does with her hair. Rachel thrives on the compliments.

In front of the mirror Rachel settles down with a smile. She also had Lynn, who is fun and exciting. That is something to look forward to. Staring through the twisting smoke, she sets about working her contours out. Then with a final drag, eyes. Eyes take the most time to get right. Rachel focuses on her eyes, as they say you can see into your soul. To her the eyes are far more than her lips. Lips are for cigarettes. She soon lights the next one.

9am Cigarette 7-10

The commute. Rachel aims to get to work between nine thirty and ten depending on what she is doing that day. Some days she is needed in earlier than other. It is a 20--25-minute drive. Her Spotify list of Nirvana and other grunge bands loudly plays out as sings and smokes her way through her three to four cigarettes. With a ten o'clock start there is definitely time to enjoy the fourth. As she drove along each spent butt was ceremonially flicked out the open window once done.

With her final before work cigarette discarded again through the window, tumbling, and rolling as it fizzes in the breeze on to the grey pavement below. With her head held high she confidently heads into work.

10am Cigarettes 11-12

A brief chat with her boss, covering the television they watched last night, she sets about getting ready for the customer. She likes to get the colours already for when the customer arrives, even if they are not properly mixed. A couple of quick cuts and then it is on to Lynn. She is a fun client, so happy and friendly. Hilarious with her stories especially of her grandchildren and what they get up to.

Even with the entertaining chat, and focusing on the hair, the hardest bit is the exceptionally long two hours until the next cigarette. The clock to it starts loudly internally ticking once the customer arrives. Rachel needs to get as much done before she can try and excuse herself and escape out the back.

As the hour passes twelve, she will make a polite excuse to go and as her boss comes the other way a smile on her face, smelling of fresh cigarette. Rachel will suggest that she too needs to get something from out the back. She will be just two minutes, just a quick break. She will lean against the outside wall and smoke. It feels so good. She just cannot stop doing it. A second cigarette is instantly lit. For her in these occasions just one is never enough. Lynn will not mind waiting.

130pm Lunch- Cigarettes 13-16

With Lynn finished and paid up. Time for a quick lunch break between customers. The dreaded Sandra is in the afternoon.

Sitting outside slowly chewing on her lettuce leaf, carrot and tomato salad Rachel works her way through a further three or four cigarettes guzzling water or coffee. Depending on the timings. Depending on her mood.

2pm Sandra...Cigarettes 17-18

Lunch break was far too quick. The next three hours with Sandra drag on for eternity. Everything and everyone, except her are in the wrong. She probably somewhere, sometimes, is a lovely woman, but sitting in the chair, she bitches about everything. For Rachel who tries to deal in positivity, time moves so slowly, doing her hair takes hours. To Rachel, it seems like weeks.

The two-hour break window cannot arrive soon enough. Two quickly smoked cigarettes and a slurp of coffee and then the last hour of finishing up her hair. There is relief on the horizon. Driving home, with an all-important lit cigarette or two.

530pm- Drive home Cigarettes 19-22

The drive home, the music is cranked up loud and with the window open, the post work, extremely deserved cigarettes are smoked.

There are a set of apartments being built one the main road on the way to Rachel's house. Along with a set of temporary traffic lights that are take forever to change. Some day's if she is lucky, she can wind down the window and watch the manly men at work. She enjoys seeing the big strong men at doing their thing. It is her moment of fun on the laborious drive home. Observing them almost strutting their thing peacocking on the scaffolding tower. With a smile she contemplates bumping into them one day.

Before the traffic lights go green, she has already opened her new pack and lit her next cigarette, as the smoke drifts out of her nose, she drives off home.

6pm Cigarette 23-25.

Mum's been shopping on the way home from work. She is drained and completely knackered after standing on her feet her twelve-hour shift. There is however positive delight all around as there in the middle of the kitchen table are two fresh cartoons of two hundred Marlboro Red cigarettes each. There will be no stressful supply shortage of cigarette for the next few days in this household. Rachel had been getting little nervous; she only had a couple of packs left.

With a quick hug and a happy grin at her mum, she instantly sticks two pack in her handbag ready for tomorrow and whilst in her bag digs out a wedge of cash to pay her mum back. There are several advantages in the world of being a pretty but young looking twenty-year-old but buying cigarettes by herself is not one of them. That problem will be resolved in a few rather long weeks' time. Once she turns twenty-one, her mum no longer needs to be her nicotine "dealer".

As her mum jumps in the shower, twelve hours of stress of being in the local hospital needs washing off, Rachel sets about cooking tea for both of them. A light dinner of chicken and rice, with a salad side of rocket leaves and tomatoes. Nothing huge, both women are very much actively watching their weight and ultimately trying to be healthy as possible.

Three cigarettes later tea is served. The last one was enjoyed as she waited for the rice to boil.

Rachel sits there with water. Unfortunately for her there had recently been a tough time with drink and illegal drugs a few years ago. However, Rachel is on the other side and now stays well clear. She sees her cigarettes are the most natural solution to any of her emotional angst now. There are no chemicals messing with her head. Her mum sits there with a glass of wine. They discuss how their days went before they finally finish tea.

With the cutlery pointing to 6 o'clock and the post meal cigarettes at lit. Her mum takes her pack to the sofa to chill, whilst Rachel gets on with tidying the kitchen and doing the dishes. Its only right tonight as her mum kindly bought the cigarettes.

Again.

8pm Cigarette 26+

For the rest of the evening Rachel settles into evening smoking rhythm whilst watching Netflix or whatever boxset they choose on television. She openly states that her life is extremely boring. During the day for work she is good, she holds out waiting the tortuous two hours or so between cigarettes. But sitting there on the sofa, for the next couple of hours every 15 minutes she has stretched her hand to her pack and lighter as she lights another cigarette.

For Rachel it is not a mission, as that would make smoking a chore. She takes too much delight from a cigarette. She does not have an aim to smoke as many as possible. She knows that would just be plain strange and wrong. When Rachel is at home and comfortable. She is going to sit there, and smoke. Rachel quite rightly enjoys her down time after work, chilling whilst enjoying cigarette after cigarette.

Her mum on the other settee is no different, watching television lost in her thoughts and cloud of smoke as they repetitively bring their filters to their lips.

1030pm Cigarettes 33-36

Now dressed in her silky pyjamas back in front of her mirror, a cigarette burning in the ashtray. Rachel uses her facewipes to remove her makeup. She pauses after a couple of swipes which bring a contrasting black and brown stain of dirt against the white cloth. As ever there is a thin layer of ash, from her nearly forty cigarettes, plenty of sweat and her all-important makeup covering her face. IT all needs to come off before bed. She smiles to herself in the mirror, as she put the filter back to her lips to pull hungrily on her cigarette. She casually exhales before she continues wiping off the dirt filled layers, slowly bringing the fresh, young-looking face back into the reflection.

She will shower at the weekend. Her long naturally straight and dry hair can let her go for several days between washes. But her face is nicely clean before bed.

1100pm Cigarette 37- 40

Depending on her mood, and want, as per this evening. Under the thick warm duvet her pyjama bottoms have been pulled down from her pert bottom and her slim thighs a little. A cigarette is lit and currently dangled between her lips. One hand has crept down over her flat stomach and is between her thighs, her other hand is gently twisting her left nipple. She can lie in bed and think of her strapping strong construction man in hi-vis jacket, climbing on top of her as she gently, at first, plays with herself.

Her moment of fun. Thinking of her sexy hunk straddling her whilst smoking with her. Maybe she will see him on the drive home from work tomorrow. One day she will meet him in person. Where or how, she has yet to determine. At the moment she has no confidence to say anything to any of the guys at the site. However much she admires them from afar.

With a satisfactory sigh, a gentle pant, and a sweaty glow across her pretty face, the last brown stained filter of the day is stubbed out. She reluctantly leaves the two remaining fresh cigarettes in the open pack, all ready for tomorrow. Rachel pulls up her pyjama bottoms, rolls over and falls happily asleep.

The End... of that day, it starts all again at 7am tomorrow.