Not being a smoker and not having anything against those who do, I guess I tend to notice certain things more.

Yesterday, I passed an ashtray that was brimming with butts. Almost as an homage to the fallen, like the great elephant graveyard that was always referenced in Tarzan movies. With my typical sense of curiosity, I photographed it from several angles. What lay in store for that ashtray and it's contents would be the ultimate irony.

It would seem that a remaining ember from a once lit cigarette would leave a charred memory of what once was a collection of filters from moments of inhaled stress relief or a relaxing series post meal drags.

A small yet smokey fire ensued, which would eventually lead to the shunning of the office "cool kids" to confines less friendly to their self imposed, yet legal addiction. In the words of my dear, sweet mother; "This is exactly why we can never have anything nice!"