He stared blankly at the refurbished vintage cigarette vending machine.
So. Many. Choices. So. Many. Colorful. Packages.
In the end, like most smokers, his decision was influenced by his peer group and aesthetics. He put his credit card in the chip reader and made his selection.
As he walked away he pulled out his lighter and lit up, completely ignoring the “No Smoking” sign prominently posted over the machine.
He inhaled and smiled. It tasted just like he remembered. He could almost hear Bob Dylan playing in the background.
Life, in general, was even better now that weed was legal.
This week’s prompt was to write a fifty or 100-word story about a vending machine. The machine can be anywhere in the world and dispense anything the imagination can conjure. We’re all familiar with vending machines that spill out beverages, candy, and sandwiches. I decided on a retro twist.