Once upon a time, in a bustling city filled with skyscrapers and bustling streets, there lived a man whose morning routine always began with a steaming cup of coffee and a few cigarettes. His name was Jack, and he was a writer by trade, spending his days crafting stories and poems that captured the essence of life in the city.

Every morning, Jack would wake up to the sound of his alarm clock blaring, signaling the start of a new day. He would stumble out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen. The first thing he would do was brew a strong pot of coffee, the rich aroma filling the small apartment and awakening his senses.

As the coffee brewed, Jack would step out onto his balcony, lighting up a cigarette as he watched the city come to life below him. The sounds of cars honking, people chatting, and the distant hum of the subway filled the air, creating a symphony of urban noise that never failed to inspire him.

With his coffee in hand and a cigarette dangling from his lips, Jack would retreat back inside, settling down at his desk to begin his work. The caffeine would kick in, fueling his creativity as he typed away at his keyboard, lost in a world of his own making.

Hours would pass in a blur as Jack lost himself in his writing, the words flowing effortlessly from his fingertips. The cigarette ash would pile up in the ashtray beside him, a silent testament to his dedication to his craft.

Eventually, the sun would rise higher in the sky, signaling that it was time for a break. Jack would stretch his legs, stepping out onto the balcony once more to savor another cigarette and a fresh cup of coffee. The city below would be in full swing now, the streets bustling with people going about their day.

As the morning turned to afternoon, Jack would reluctantly extinguish his last cigarette, knowing that it was time to get back to work. But he would do so with a sense of contentment, knowing that he had started his day in the best possible way – with coffee and cigarettes, and a heart full of stories waiting to be told. And so, the man whose morning always started with coffee and cigarettes continued to write, his words weaving a tapestry of life in the city that would endure for generations to come.