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Smoktober 03

One night his wife wakes him up. She’s quite angry, and she yells at him:
“I told you to stop smoking in the house! Especially in bed!”
But as soon as she makes some light the room, she become worried.
The old sailor was not smoking the pipe. He’s smoking… himself!
Thin trails of smoke were pouring from his ears, from his mouth and from his nose, dancing together as they reach the roof.
“What is happening my dear?” she said. “I really don’t know” he replied.

***
Une nuit, sa femme le réveille. Elle n’est pas contente du tout et le lui fait savoir :“Je t’ai déjà dit de ne pas fumer dans la maison, et surtout pas au lit !"Mais dès qu’elle allume la lumière, sa colère laisse place à de l’inquiétude.Car le vieux marin ne fumait pas la pipe au lit. Il fumait… tout court !
De minces filets de fumée sortait de sa bouche, de ses oreilles et de son nez pour aller se perdre au plafond."Mais que t’arrive-t-il mon amour?” lui demanda-t-elle. “Je ne sais pas” lui répondit-il.
Ink brush on A6 sketchbook / Encre de chine sur carnet A6Smoktober 2020 – An Ink story about Smoke