Vanquished.
Caroline let out a little giggle. Three years, seven months, nine days, twelve hours and twenty-something minutes ago she'd eaten her last piece of chocolate.
"I never thought I'd manage it," she said to Paul as she stirred her coffee. "I'd been addicted for...ooh...I'm twenty-seven now so....twenty-one years?" She sipped her coffee, her tongue shocked by the burning liquid as she took her first caffeine hit of the day.
"So how's your New Year's give-up-smoking kick going?"
Paul shrugged. "S'okay. I had my last ciggie with breakfast on Monday."
"But that's two whole days into the new year!" said...
I shivered. The moor was cold and damp on this February morning. The fog was thick and clung to my hair, my face, my clothes. I wiped my dewy glasses and stretched my aching limbs. I'd been hiding behind this tree for far too long.
I heard a crack.
I eased myself up, cursing my poor old back all the while, and raised my weapon of choice. I lined up my 'scope, taking a deep breath and smiling with satisfaction as the proud head came into focus.
Old Braveheart I called him. I knew it was a cliche but since...