Blind Cigarettes
Sitting in the dark, Oskar reflects on the walls he's built.
Anyone who knew him would be caught off guard by the way he looked now.
Sitting alone in his bath surrounded by the pitch black that came along with the windowless room. The darkness only being penetrated by the glow of the cigarette whenever Oskar took a breath.
It was a dangerous game that he rarely played. But it was something he couldn't stay away from for long, the bitter burn of the cigarette against his throat and lungs kept him grounded.
Oskar was never one for showing the walls he had built behind the front he put up every day. Never sharing his internal dialog or.. well, anything.
But in the safety of the black that surrounded him, he could let those walls fall. Here he was allowed to sit in silence as his thoughts raced. Allowed to speak his thoughts into the world, letting their jumbled mess organize as they sprinkled off his tongue.
He was allowed to feel what weighed so heavily on himself.
His move to the island had been rough and the following months weighed on him. He'd found escape in things he never expected to begin, or never wanted to pick up again.
Smoking, drinking, he'd even begun having a sexual affair with two of the other teachers. All of these felt good in the moment. But it always came back to rear it's head at him.
But he was Oskar Andreassen. He'd been dealt worse hands.
So Oskar sat in the dark. Smoking a cigarette over the oilspill in his tub. Watching as the light lit the room for only a second before being surrounded one more time in the comfort of nothingness as he exhaled.