Read by Katy Darby
I leave work early, find the bus-stop and stand watching old ladies smoke and feeling jealous. I guess once you’re seventy-odd you got nothing to lose. The smell of cigarette smoke reminds me of Sam now, especially Marlboro Reds. The old lady I’m standing next to is smoking a Winston, but still, I think of him. Waiting, in the motel room. Smoking on the balcony, maybe, bourbon in hand. I don’t let him smoke in bed in case David smells it on me. Smart, huh?