Lighting up

What betrayed us after dark when we were teenagers was a pinprick of Embassy orange.

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I suppose they were bought by whoever looked oldest, or nicked off parents by one of our mates.

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Now, floodlit rectangles pinpoint the shiver of huddled girls, mouthy boys, dying to snog them.

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Smoking has died a death. Yet kids today are still lighting up – at each new mention of their names.