I’d have told anyone who asked it was harmless. The ads and posters touting the dangers had nothing to do with me. I was fifteen.
From my first drag I was addicted. A pack of cigarettes cost less than a dollar. Smoking bans were barely a twinkle in some legislator’s eye. I sat in a restaurant and drew in the poison. I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke rise, loving the new me. On that day I became a smoker.
Forty years later I sit in the stink, stains and ashes that cover my life, wishing I’d heeded the warnings.
This is a response to the 100 word challenge put forth by Velvet Verbosity.