I sit outside.
Wisps of smoke claw at the passing clouds.
Every drag lights up my face; a stranger in the darkness.
The long night.
Music plays in the background.
Caribbean drums intermingled with drunken shouts.
Neighbours laugh, scream, fight.
This is what we call life.
Fireworks. A dog barking. Parties.
Kids up late. Parents out pissed.
I flick my smoke and watch the sparks fly.
And I smile at how it all is.