Hot

"Still smoke?"
Curtains rustled as wind carried each letter heavy and downward from the hotel balcony.
"I never did."
"These are my last cigarettes.  My last pack."
The thump against palm so routine almost lost it's robotic touch, it's ape-like impulse.
"I never liked your smoking, it's one of the reasons I left.  You never noticed, you always offered, but I never accepted and you ended up smoking the entire pack."
"Well, maybe it feels good to put your vices on someone else."

A car's loose muffler chug chug chugged and sputtered floors below, and it was hot and cold all at once.

"This was a mistake, coming here."