a dissipated haze

The glass doors of the hotel bar opened into the night. Kevin looked up, hoping. A heavy man in a black wool coat stepped inside. Kevin watched as the man brushed a thin powder of snow from his broad shoulders. The gust of cold air reached deep inside, pushing the wispy column of smoke into a dissipated haze. Kevin picked up the filter of his cigarette and ground it into the dust of the ashtray. He looked at his watch again.

Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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