The ash of my cigarette. It falls from my hand to be swept away by a gust of wind while she’s somewhere nearby taking a piss in some bushes. It’s dark, so dark that she can’t be seen, but every so often I catch a glimpse of her beady eyes through the leaves and branches watching me. She shouts at me not to look, but I keep looking. Stop looking! Turning to face the town as it sprawls to my left, I breathe in smoke and the scent of damp earth and blink at all the lights as they shimmer like reflections of stars in a pool of water. Need a piss myself. Need to see her stood before me with just a shirt on so her nipples stand out so I can pinch and fiddle with them imagining what’s going on beneath even though I know the answer. A delicate thing she is. All big brown eyes and messed up heart. Across the sounds of the blowing trees, I can hear her piss. It comes out in a gush then trickles until it drip drips drips onto the leaves beneath her. Stop Listening! Now she’s taking some tissue from her handbag and wiping herself. I can hear that too. Tossing it into some weeds, she gets to her feet and adjusts herself, but just as she’s about to join me, she realises she’s pissed on her shoes. Clenching her fists, she fizzes and shrieks. Storming on over, she grabs her handbag and swings it so it hits my arm causing me to drop my cigarette. Your fault! Taking my hand in hers, the same hand she wiped herself with, I frown as she leads us back to the pavement. Glancing at my displeasure, she smiles to herself and her temper recedes as quickly as it came.