Cigarettes
We had one argument, and that’s all. Cigarettes. Me telling you they stink, saying, please brush your teeth so I can kiss you. Making you change your shirt. Me saying, isn’t your life worth something to you? You, relaxed, kind, unmoved, infuriating. Me asking, do you not care about your life? You saying, sure, yes, that’s why I want to enjoy it, and I enjoy smoking. Come here. I love you.
So I left.
A year later, I married him, a nonsmoker who ate only organic. A year after that, you showed up to his funeral and hugged me tight.
Photo Credit: Gordon Ednie
Hello! I loved the short story. Can I ask your permission to make a short-movie (8 min)? We are not professional… we are amateurs actors, but we would like to participate in a nacional contest with this story, with the credits, ir course. Thank you.
Isabel
Excellent, Amy! Razor sharp.
Amy – what a wonderful piece!!! Although fiction, I’m sure true I’m so many instances.
Congrats!!!
I can’t help but show my due respect to you for the fantastic story with such a twist ending, of course, as a smoker!
Thank you!
Wow!
Thank you!
Great piece!
Thank you, Jen!!
your welcome, amy.
from jen, don’t check my name tho;)
wow just checked your name!! 😉