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Secondhand Smoke
We finally escaped the madness for a time, at a restaurant that taught you Italian words in the bathroom.
Over bread we resolved to keep each other strong; We wouldn’t turn to smoking like those few months in college.
Over pasta we realized how foolish it was to think we could stand by our neighbors in need, without taking care of each other.
We walked out the side door where the servers smoked. Holding hands we took a deep breath—a drag really—of the secondhand smoke.
We stood by our neighbors then too, introducing ourselves just to make sure they were getting by okay.
“Secondhand Smoke” by Nathan T. Baker is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
