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Lighting up
What betrayed us after dark when we were teenagers was a pinprick of Embassy orange.
I suppose they were bought by whoever looked oldest, or nicked off parents by one of our mates.
Now, floodlit rectangles pinpoint the shiver of huddled girls, mouthy boys, dying to snog them.
Smoking has died a death. Yet kids today are still lighting up – at each new mention of their names.
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