There’s a spot near my house where a small creek tiptoes under an old bridge which is haphazardly shuffled about by greenery and has begun coming apart over time.
I’ve been visiting it for a while now. I love to sit under the bridge and smoke with the tadpoles and crawdaddies as I read a good book. I usually pack some coffee and a blanket to keep myself warm because this time of year the ground gets cold and hard, and the water starts to freeze around the edges of the banks, but the middle still runs free.
Continue reading “Samuel Gawith Skiff Mixture (A Longform Pipe Tobacco Review For You!)”
I was 16 years old the first time I ever stepped foot into a tobacco shop. Taking place over 20 years ago, this was before all the draconian laws were made to tax and ban smoking out of existence. I’m 37 now. I’ve been going to the same shop all this time. Others have come and gone, but one store has stood the test of the ages.
Continue reading “Straus Tobacconist (A Stroll Through The Best Little Tobacco Shop in the World)”
I take a coach to the crossroads watching the mountains through the small window as we proceed to the point where Bulletsville meets with Perdition. It was a bumpy ride. My pipe jostles from my purse and clatters to the hardwood floor. I pick it up and blow it off as the coach suddenly comes to a halt.
Continue reading “At The Crossroads (A Story Review of Devil’s Holiday Pipe Tobacco)”