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Supper
“Y’reckon they’ll notice if I start setting things on fire?”
“Absolutely.”
He tips back in his seat, letting his weight balance on the hind legs of ancient wood. He picks up his fork and spears a head of broccoli, picking it up before throwing it back onto the plate. It clamors noisily, the only noise in the quiet dinner table. He looks at the chair next to him, and as always, he’s there sitting at the end of the table. Eating with his head down, his hair illuminated by the only light in the room - an overhead light positioned right above the table. It almost looks as if his eyes are closed.
He tips his chair forwards again and sucks air and spit through his teeth as if to mock the other. “Man, stop acting like you're all high and mighty. You hate it here, too.”
“I’m hungry.” Another silent movement from fork to mouth.
He stares at the other for a few seconds before sucking air through his teeth louder, scoffing as he lets his chair fall back onto all four of its legs. Reaching inside his pocket for his lighter, he wrestles it out from underneath his sweater and holds it up almost as if to present it to somebody. A finger is pressed to the gear, just to feel the sting. Testing the waters.
The TV hums in the background, adults speak over each other, and even though legally the both of them could be in that room anyone with a two digit age starting with the number one would like to be anywhere but.
Lighter now absent, he sticks his finger back into his pocket and feels around, when a certain feeling of paper hits his fingers. He retrieves the cigarette and puts it in between his lips.
When the other hears a lighter flick, he pauses his chewing, looks up, tilts his head to the side and droops his eyelids as if to say ‘really?’ - “Hey.”
“What.” It’s mumbled as he purses his lips around the smoke, lets his hand shield the flame even though there’s no wind.
“Don’t light up here. Not in grandma’s house.”
“Just did.” He pulls the stick from his mouth, letting a steady stream of smoke follow the cigarette. “They won’t let us out. And it isn’t really grandma’s house anymore, is it.”
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A short piece meant to be practice with characterizing a scene without any previous context.