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We’re on the balcony, soaking in the ocean view, enjoying each other and smoking—while our ashtray slave sits at our feet. Silent. Motionless. Worthless. His only purpose is to catch our ashes as we relax above him, completely uninterested in his existence. He’s not part of the moment—he’s beneath it. Just an object for our use while we enjoy the beach breeze and each other’s presence.