Since then, I swore I’d never fall into the habit, but being part of Sam’s everything came to include cigarettes. Suddenly they were around the house, in my purse, constantly on my mind.
I’d leave the dinner table to breathe Dad in, an apology in every inhale.
Welcome to Microvember, my take on NaBloPoMo. Each day this month I’ll be posting microfiction, short vignettes, or poetry, accompanied by photography.
Is this piece fact or fiction? The world may never know–and that’s the fun of Microvember.