She was sitting on an old headstone engraved with a skull and bones, smoking. Most of the engraving was unreadable, what was visible was the first name Bellatrix and 'well-loved bitch'. She blew the smoke slowly down into the earth below. The dark night started sharing some human like sounds with her and eventually presented her with a dark figure. Tall, broad in the shoulders, wearing a long dark coat. Their long hair blew a little in the breeze as they got closer and she started to make out a wild beard and a dark eyes. He had been walking through the cemetery and was now following the smell of her pot.
He loved the cemetery at night with its many shadows and its silence. He wondered who might be smoking pot in a cemetery at night as the smell intensified. He could see the shape of a woman sitting on top of a headstone. She wore a long flowing black dress and the moonlight shone off her half-exposed breasts. He stopped a few metres from her when he realised that a tall dark figure at night could look quite menacing to a young woman. He did not want her to think she was risk of being attacked.
"Hello?" He called through the darkness his breath-taking shape in the cold night air.
"Hello." Her voice called back, no fear, no care. The scent of pot wafted toward him.
"What are you doing here?" He called to her.
"Smoking. What are you doing here?"
"Walking." He took a step closer sensing she was not intimidated by him.
"Do you want some?" She said, holding out the joint to him. He stepped toward her and took it, inhaling deeply, letting the taste of it waft across his tongue. He held it back out to her, and she shook her head.
"You keep it. I don't know what germs you have." She laughed as she pulled out another one from her pocket and lit it up.
