Jack Diamond leans against a striped inflatable float, cigarette smoke curling from his lips as he drags deep, his lean frame relaxed in the open air. The grass beneath him is damp, the plants rustling faintly as he shifts his weight, the cigarette still clamped between his fingers. He exhales slowly, the smoke trailing upward before dissipating, his dark hair catching the light as he reclines, towel beneath him. Every position, standing, sitting, lying, keeps the cigarette burning, the float his only prop.
