Nynorsk Story Time


He sat in a chair ( stol ); his cigar fumed ( rauk ). The man enjoyed the taste ( smaken ) of the tobacco, but knew that it would be frowned upon to admit it. Smoking ( røyking ) was banned these days. He still spoke to himself in the empty study.


He said to himself, again. He was lost in the inhalations ( inhalasjonen ) as the fire lit up, and the red-hot tip got closer to his mouth. The strange heaviness laid on his tongue.


He was not sorry, though. It had just become a habit to say it when he smoked. Everyone had a vice some had horrid taste in men, some ate fast food ( snøggmat) every night, and some — like him — smoked. Who was to judge? Who was to say which was worse? No one had killed oneself over a cigar, but plenty of romances ended in self-death (sjølvmord).


He took another draft.


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