I slept. I awoke. In hell, delivered
by a package from my memory.
An olfactory flash back to 1980.
I watched my father’s cigarette second
hand of smoke hold my mouth shut–
While the first hand tried to strangle
my small, six-year old neck. I screamed.
I smelled the enraged six year old’s
fury and I thrashed around to attempt
to pummel my father. The flash back
ended with my little hand which smashed
my fiance’s mouth with the force of a
freaked out me. He yelled. I explained
that I reached for my glasses, a strange
purple experiment. No, I lied. I wanted
to snuff out the source of the dirty smoke.
Instantly, the cigarette smoke’s grasp
hid. I expect my fiance to not survive
the next calendar year.