Cigarette Break
by Freida Theant

SMOKE SIGNALS MAGAZINE - March - April 2013

Both of Briana’s hands click in staccato tempo the alphanumerics of her computer’s keyboard. Her full, deep lashes extend overtop green eyes riveted and unblinking; absorbed in text and dollar figures shown on the monitor. Her spotless white blouse barely draped with straight auburn hair dimly reflects in the face of the screen.

The bullet-form ember of her Parliament Blue, glowing more golden than her tresses, points straight to the electronic figures within the screen. Briana is way beyond expert at ejecting smoke hands-free from her superbly controlled lips; drawing down on the filter, channeling the smoky draft up to her nasal chambers, where she gulps the mass down, down deeper into her soul.

Three on a Match
by Freida Theant

SMOKE SIGNALS MAGAZINE - July - August 2013

Lillian, in her blue jean jacket and tight-fitting denim pants, brunette straight-brushed shoulder length hair and knit scarf sidles thru a maze of Student Union cafeteria chairs projecting variously from their central tables, some supporting students slouched over them, others hunched atop the table at odd angles. Penetrating into the smoky, dense interior, she unhooks her shoulder strap from her canvas book bag, lets them crash to the linoleum and settles her coffee onto the sticky, beverage-stained table. Seated a few rows from the floor-to-ceiling windows, she glances despondently thru the windows at the patches of ice on College Avenue that signal that the wintery climate was overstaying its tenure into the spring months.

Her purple-yellow hands, numbed cold from changing classes outdoors, made it difficult to snatch the three quarters full pack of Marlboro Reds, peers up and around to see if her companion had yet entered the cafeteria, while her hands sightlessly pull up a cork tipped nico-promise. Janice slips it between her expectant lips without shifting her focus, and edges a Bic flame expectantly to its tip.

Release: Part 2

By Freida Theant

SMOKE SIGNALS MAGAZINE - January - February 2011

"The nametag on your jumper," she replied, paused while she livened her Pall Mall with a short tug and opened her mouth packed with the downy cloud. And then instantly, with her gulp of air, it vanished within, revealing her delectable mouth. For a space of three heartbeats, there was stillness, broken by the muted rush of her opaque breath. "You must have forgotten you're wearing that."

The Nicotine Hiatus
by Freida Theant

SMOKE SIGNALS MAGAZINE - January - February 2015

Penny moaned. The red-haired business manager just calculated the time span of her enforced no-smoking for her spur-of-the-moment out-of-town conference. “Thursday I won’t be able to smoke for at least fourteen hours.” Depressed, she pondered, “That’s how long I’ll be in the air, in taxis and presenting our strategy to ‘corporate’ while conferring with our clients.”