His Smoking Was Good for Me

Just outside the grocery store I noticed a man without a mask. Surprising these days to see entire faces in public. As I walked to my car, I smelled why he was unmasked. I breathed in ripe cherry tobacco and it unlocked a childhood memory of my father packing his burgundy colored pipe and smoking on dark winter evenings. The scent was identical and comforting. I turned back looking for the man, looking for a pipe… but it was a cigar.

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