A smoke

I decided I needed a smoke and asked Charley if he would share it with me. Of course he agreed.

"Much appreciated, my good Chap," I said.

"Piss off."

Charley came from across the pond. He did not care to overemphasize this within our circle of friends. Naturally, none of us would have it and we took advantage of his upbringing every opportunity we could. He was none to fond of this.

We stepped onto the porch of Doug's house and I shut the door behind us. Still, the muffled sounds of merry-going seeped through. I did my best to ignore it and focus on the drizzle outside. I lit my cigarette and handed another to Charley.

"Bloody hell, did I need this. Too much political philosophy going on in there, old fellow. I never much cared for political philosophy."

"It's a damned sham," he agreed, nodding.

"I always thought Rousseau and Locke were a couple of blowhards."

"John Locke does on occasion say something useful," he contested.

"That's true. Most of it is garbage, though. An utter waste of time."

Charley did not reply to this. I walked over to one of the chairs and sat down. I watched as the bugs gathered around the porch light. There were quite a few, but not as many as usual. The rain was fairly heavy. I watched one moth in particular who strayed dangerously close to the open air. A droplet must have hit him because he slowly fluttered to the wood, struggling.

"What would it be like to be a moth during a rainstorm?" I asked Charley.

"I imagine it would be a hard life. There aren't many places one could go without risking his life."

I nodded and took a long drag of the cigarette. I wouldn't much care to be a moth. It was interesting to think about, but was something I would never actually consider. I liked the rain too much. A frog, now that was an animal I could get behind. Sit on a lily and wait for flies to come to me.

"Hey Frank?"

"Yeah, Charley?"

"Are you anxious about the future?"

"I try not to think about the future. It's too far away."

"You know what I mean, Frank. There are at least a dozen other guys just like us back in Doug's house. We all know there are not enough professorships to go around. I can't imagine investing the time and effort for my doctorate and end up teaching social studies."

"What a load of rubbish," I told him. "Those guys don't know a whit about metaphysics. They're a batch of hackneyed politicians and moralists."

"I suppose."

I finished my cigarette and flicked the butt onto the ground. We stood up and went to go back inside. As I closed the door behind us, I hesitated. The moth remained on the porch since it had first fallen. But now it was slowly raising. It began to circle its way back up towards the light to join the other bugs.