Chapter 3
She's smoking again. She wrote on that little book that she would stop. I think it was almost two months ago.
But then again if it wouldn't have happen I think she would have definitely stopped.
All the lights in the small apartment are out, except for the little lamp on her night-stand, she's been sitting on the wood floor with her back to the wall and her hand out the window. She's breathtaking tonight.
The moon's glow shines thru the window and illuminates her legs, she's wearing small black panties and a long t-shirt. Her hair is a mess.
Beautiful and natural and as always I'm hard.
I can't keep doing this anymore. She parts her legs slightly, as she brings her hand to her lips to take another hit of the cigarette. She's been very good at letting it burn more then actually smoking it.
The sounds of the street below are a lull as she keeps on smoking and starring at the canvas on the wall.
I think this is her best work yet. She thinks she's not good enough. I wish she could see herself differently. Or the way I see her.
I'm waiting for her to try and sleep. I hope this time she can get some rest. I want to try it again. Maybe this time she'll tell me.\