When Peggy Taylor, my best friend, and I were 13, we'd skip school, go to my house, and smoke cigarettes. I remember the euphoric happiness that would encompass me – the friendship, the danger, the laughter, and, always eventually, the urge to poop. We theorized then that nicotine might be the perfect diet aid. Now, 40 years later, I smoke secret cigarettes and feel the euphoria coupled with the urge to fill, not empty, and I know I've moved a small step forward.
© 2013 Carol Hummel