Pack of Cigarettes

Pack of Cigarettes Sunday morning, his usual spot in front of the TV. He’s not big on church. He justifies this seat to himself. “Why would I want to sit with a bunch of hypocrites?” He picks up his paper. He reaches for his pack of the cigarettes. He’s been smoking since he was sixteen. Everybody smoked back then. Over the years, he’s smoked Winston's, Camels, even Marlboro’s. He’s even rolled his own. He puts one to his lip. TV’s on, A preacher he watches sometimes is talking gospel. He’s preaching on habits and slaves. “Your a slave, a slave to your habits!” “A slave is not strong enough to quit.” “That’s all you’ll ever be!” This irritates him, “who does this man think he is?” “I ain’t nobody’s slave.” He looks square into the 20” black and white screen. “I’ll show you preacher, I ain’t nobody’s slave.” He takes the unlit cigarette from his lip. Puts it back in the pack, crushes the pack into a little ball and throws it in the trash. “There you go, I ain‘t ever gonna smoke again.” “I’ll show you preacher, I ain’t nobody’s slave.” It’s been forty years since he made that promise. Forty years he kept that promise. He ain’t nobody’s slave. 3-28-17