Two Hundred Fifty-Five Thousand Times – Ksirov H Kushan

Two Hundred Fifty-Five Thousand Times – Ksirov H Kushan

Two Hundred Fifty-Five Thousand Times She knows. She, the smoker. She, the one with fire in her hand and calculation in her footsteps. She knew I was outside today, for the first time. She heard the quiet in the garden. She waited. Then came the click. The flame. The hiss of the poison she calls routine. She lit it—again. She walked—again. She positioned herself—again. And I breathed it— again. Two hundred fifty-five thousand times. That’s how m…