I look up and see the couple, shivering and sharing. He warms his insides with one last drag, passes it to her, and then warms his hands, rubbing them together.
He looks up and sees the trash bin outside the entrance to the general store. Somebody left a cigarette on top. Others shuffle past, he darts in between, picks it up, and wags the clean white stick. "Babe, can you believe that? That's a good smoke right there."
The day is looking up. The cig goes into his jeans pocket. The couple goes into the store.