Humanity On Trial – Appeal Granted

My hand slips into the right pocket of this dying corduroy jacket to produce a pack of cigarettes. It feels light, and I panick slightly, but after opening the specially decorated box I’m relieved to see two Camel Wide Lights leaning against the wall of foil like Johnny Depp and James Dean sharing a smoke.

But alas, as my hand continues to search that and every other pocket with me, no lighter. No problem, though, I’ll just ask the girl sitting two tables down. She’s reading something, looks like a college paper, and I almost feel too bad to bug her, but she turns out to be very friendly. I light my cigarette and return to my seat, enjoying the first half of my morning lung injection.

Part of the early day goes by. I read some blogs, eat a muffin, various people come and go and the radio is switched from NPR’s Morning Edition to “Only the Good Die Young” playing on the local classic rock station. I can’t believe radio still exists. The girl sitting two tables down gets up to leave, and I barely notice, other than she exits through the back door not ten feet from me, and the glacier crisp air makes iced of my tea. Then, she comes back in. I’ve seen her before, and her face is almost always holding the same expression – as though she has finally succumbed to the realization that her puppy is not coming back from the war. She walks towards my table and I glance up.

“Want some matches?” she asks. I smile and gladly accept, secure in my knowledge that Q will not be destroying humanity today, my friends, as we have proven ourselves truly worthy.

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