An ashtray would be nice, Sasha thought, lighting a cigarette.
He took a glass off the bedside table, placed it on his chest, holding it lightly with his left hand.
He didn’t have a single thought in his head.
“Completely empty…” Sasha whispered. “Like an abandoned shed…. Hey, anyone there? Some old stuff that nobody needs…maybe a rake? Should I step on it? No, not a rake…nothing there at all…”
He pulled on his cigarette, held the smoke, and exhaled slowly.
He tried to remember what he usually thought about when trying to fall asleep. Counting white sheep never helped him. Women only made it worse. Sometimes he thought of his favourite books, but now he couldn’t remember any. He also argued with people sometimes in his head, but it had been a while since he last felt like arguing.
He
