I threw the white lighter on the coarse red carpeting. He should know better, I thought. "Why did you do that," he asked. I couldn't believe that such a seasoned smoker would still be wielding a white lighter, and I'm sure my face showed my astonishment. "Give it back," said Kip, a look of contempt growing over his weathered face.
"I can't believe you'd still be using that stupid white lighter. You should know better. It's bad luck." I drowned what was left of my beer and took a long drag off of my cigarette. It was Cora's turn to buy rounds. Kip just stared at me, his eyes becoming more piercing as the second hand ticked on some alcohol-related neon clock which shone through the smoky din of the bar. Cora slowly rose and left before she became involved in the banter between Kip and me.
"Pieter," he said, "I'm not kidding around. Give it back." I look past him, into the bar and see that Dennis had finally shown up.
"Cora's at the bar," Kip said, his gaze never leaving my eyes, no matter how much I look away. Dennis nods and ditches his affects, pivoting on his left and heading towards his entrance. He looks briefly at the lighter, and then at me as I shake my head no. He exits. "Give it back," Kip's stringy blonde hair beginning to moisten with sweat. This was nothing unusual, he always sweats when he gets mad, but we're both too stubborn to have this last for a simple two minutes, and we were not close enough to have a simple and drunken resolution.
*end scene*
That's just the intro... let me know if you have any ideas.
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