Lunch Break
Allison Pham
His shoulders sagged in relief.
The black cigarette smoke
curled around his finger,
a lethargic snake soothing his soul
He took another puff and closed his eyes.
His always trembling hands were steady,
a conductor and his baton
orchestrating a symphony of nicotine meditation
He gazed and heaved a sigh, opening his mouth.
Smoke escaped like a whispered prayer.
A plea that the work day would go easier,
that the tremble in his hands would continue to cease.
Gray pieces of ash fell at his feet,
reminders of the sanctity of his prayer.
The light at the end of the butt glowed once more
before he flicked what was left onto the ground.
For a moment, he shrank as he let out a breath
His gaze mourning what he consumed.
My father stood up straight and crushed what was left with his foot
The shop door’s bell rang as he opened the door.
Break time is over.