Daytime friends, nightime lovers
Prologue She wanted to remember. The hookah was a beautiful piece. It stood at 4 ½ feet. Dark red… it always was her favorite color. This hookah was her personal prize. It only had one hose, one smoker. She pulled the airtight box from its hiding place and opened the lid. Once released, the heady aroma drifted, tickling her nose. The new batch of bud was a dark green, but the crystals were so thick it turned everything pastel. Breaking it apart just enough to smoke easy, she arranged the weed in the hookah’s bowl. Covering everything and arranging the freshly lit charcoals, she lifted the velvet covered hose and took her first drag. Smoke filled her mouth, then wafted up in a French inhale and down into her lungs in a long, easy inhale. …