The Doctor and His Pack of Sticks

The first time the Doctor came around Alex was sitting underneath a tree watching kids her age play on a jungle gym, napping. The warmth of the summer sun sang through the clusters of leaves and branches. A sense of tranquility left her soul heavy and her mind light when a soft thud awoke her from her sleeping.

Occupying the other side of the tree was a man. Adorned in a long white coat, he sat with his head in his hands.

Alex rolled her head around, pulling her ten-year-old muscles to stretch them out to look around the tree, watching as the older man pulled a gray box from his pocket to drag a long, thin stick from its confines. Following the flicking of a lighter procured from the same pocket. Then, with shaky hands, he brought the stick to his mouth, allowing a small plum of smoke slithering from his mouth.

Intrigued by the stick that produced smoke, the girl rose from the ground and rounded the tree to sit beside the man.

The man turned his head to stare at her when he heard her sit with a soft thud. He grunted, pushing the darker, redder side of the cigarette into the dirt. "What do'ya want, kid?"

"What is this?" Alex picked up the squashed stick, holding it up for him to see.

The man snatched the cigarette from the girl's hands and tossed it over his shoulder. "It's a cigarette, kid. Didn't your mom teach ya not to grab things that don't belong to ya?"

Alex shrugged, her curiosity unable to blind her from the sadness she felt at the mention of her mother, "I don't know, sir. Maybe?"

The man scrunched his eyebrows together, staring at Alex as she smiled at him. "Hey, are ya British?"