A tiny square of paper.
A nub of filter.
The tangy smell of moist tobacco.
It's a risk.
One worth taking.
Teasing out the earthy tangle.
Rolling packed ridges against fingertips.
Licking and sticking.
Flicking the flint.
A blare of light and a blaze of ash.
Plumes into beautiful blue murl whorls.
The anticipation is 90% appreciation.