She sucked the smoke in. With all of her life she sucked the smoke in. She had been waiting for the good news, the news the doctors would carry on their professional lips. A few words, only a few, clear succinct, the ones she wanted to hear. The doctor's lips would be tight and between their teeth the words she had been waiting to hear would slip out, almost inaudible, almost nothing, almost silence. Their faces would be grave, sorry and even condescending, yes, why not? Patronizing enough to neutralize their discomfort.
LUNGS + TUMORS = NOT GOOD (e.g: death, etc...)
Cigarette corpses crumpled in her ashtrays. She sucked the smoke in. How much longer would she have to wait? It was taking longer than she had expected or maybe it was simply her impatience that had dilated time.
SMOKE! SMOKE! SMOKE!
The whiteness of their medical eminence would be powerless before her will. They would offer solutions with grave faces and cold voices, something about it never being too late, about the great leaps in bounds medicine had made since her mother's time. Oh yes, leaps and bounds, great steps, giant steps too large to be filled by human strides. Progress is like a bouncy ball. Was the filter better or worse for you?
READ THE COMMERCIAL!
She sucked all of her life in. Smoke filled her lungs, like the air of a jazz club at 4 in the morning. Heavy, sweet, tired, dirty and mesmerizing. The cylinder between her lips blazed, inhale heat, exhale ash. She was waiting, she had been waiting, she would be waiting for still some time. Another corpse in the ashtray and the smell of tar and tobacco on her fingers.
YOU CAN'T FUCKING DIE! IT’S NOT IN YOUR BILL OF RIGHTS!