I quit smoking a few years ago, right after Christmas, when the January sadness was nigh. There was no specific reason. No coughing up blood, no coughing at all, honestly. At times I did recognize the nicotine buses though, stopping traffic in my veins. I could sense their wheezing air breaks and the tired poor piling in and out of the bright interiors …
© 2024 Serge Bielanko
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