The spark could be heard faintly as the sounds of it were overwhelmed by the whooshing sounds of the fan that perched at the top of the room.
The cigarette just patiently anchored on to the ridge of my lips. Patiently and slowly inviting black over. I don't mind meeting Black, its bound to happen, its just the way "Destino" works. So with this thought contrasted right before me, I'm not shaken by it. I sit there in the dark having a go at tango with the two, Destino and Black.