black and white dreams by Bogdan Dragos

by the time she was done rolling that cigarette it looked like a broken, gnarly twig regardless, she put it between her lips, lit a piece of nacho on fire and used that to light the cigarette and then just watched the nacho burn until the flames reached her fingers “Do you remember when dreams used to have colors?” she asked “Color?” he said, and thought about it. “Yeah, it was back in the days when I was a kid and movies were black and white.” She watched him through a veil of smoke that she thickened by blowing some more. “Wow, you’re, like, old as fuck then.” “Old enough to know there were better times, dear. Way better times. When dreams had color and sound…” “Listen,” she said, “is this a rant on technology and how it fucks our minds an’ all that?” “What? Not at all. I mean…