My
Zippo glistens in the
winter sun... It's still warm from my pocket. It makes a
satisfying *clink* as I flip open its lid. The
baffle around the wick lets me
snap the wheel against the
flint, throwing
glowing sparks onto the wick,
sodden with
naptha. Its scent wafts up to my nose and I
grin evilly. *flick* I light it. The flame is several inches high, and it
belies the
strong gusts before it.
It's the kind of lighter that looks at the wind and says "FUCK YOU". . and for that, it is well loved.