“Eastbound” by Ruwan Bandujeewa
First published in The Los Angeles Review Online, July 2020
Toward the middle of the cigarette, my thoughts turned semicircular and started heading eastward, completely defying my expectations. So now, they must travel through the central hills, through the fog. Because she is inside the fog, they will also have to travel through her in a moment. But they did not.
Read the full piece on The Los Angeles Review Online
It was when I got a phone call.
“My friend, Wind is sick.”
After every burn, at least a pinch of tobacco gets to wander in the air, free from this unremitting production process. When no one takes the state-regulated health warning seriously, the tobacco falls in love with the lips, the owner of that anarchist warmth. Abandoning not a single speck of ash or a single ring of smoke forsaken by joy, Wind accompanies them when no one else does. How come this dear Wind is now sick?