"There's
a bunch of them on the floor over there," Max pointed out to
him.
"Too
lazy to move," Goner answered with a smile.
Max
sat down beside Goner, reached inside his shirt pocket and took out
his pack. Goner opened it up and saw just one
lone, bent cigarette in the case and took it.
"Gotta
a light?" Goner asked of Max.
Max
reached inside his pants pocket and took out a beat up zippo; it was
old and worn and the images that were once engraved upon it were faded
and scratched beyond recognition.
Goner
looked at the sacred relic in his hands before striking the flint. "I
think I know what I am going to get you for Xmas."
"Don't,"
Max said. "That's my mojo, you couldn't replace that with
anything in the plex."
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