The realization just came that I was ten when I smoked my first Marlboro. It hit me in the face like a frozen mackerel, because today my own daughter is the same age, and when I look at her I can’t fathom a cigarette on her lip.
Some say a weed can’t grow into a tree, but there is a weed growing out from under my neighbor Robert’s house with a trunk the size of my thigh. He should have cut the weed when it was small, but when it comes to his lawn, Robert doesn’t cut much.
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