Denial of addiction

Cool Kid

I'm still sitting on this rock, the harshness cutting through my jeans, I don't care. I take a tentative gulp of my beer, wipe the cool beads of condensation from my hand onto my ripped denim jeans, and watch the smoke from my cigarette curl into the sombre bush before disappearing into the outback sky. I'm aware of the pub behind me in the same way that I am aware of the 50 metre drop under my dangling feet; it's there but I'm not going to fall.