THE LAST CIGARETTE
I woke up to the loud sound of the door. It was Rosa. She had been out for smoking in the backyard. This was the eighth time today. I didn't know then, that it would be last cigarette she would ever smoke.
Rosa and I had been married for forty-two years. Rosa used to smoke a lot; she sometimes finished the whole pack in one day, all by herself. Doctors had been telling her again and again, that she had to quit smoking. I warned them not to tell Rosa that she had cancer. I didn't want her to be worried. But this way, it was even worse to watch her die and do nothing about it.
It was a rainy day. I couldn't stop my tears coming out from my eyes. Rosa had left me alone in this cruel world. I knew it was all my fault for not telling her that she had cancer and that she had to stop smoking. So, I knew I deserved to face the consequences of her death.
Life was really overwhelming without Rosa. I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to sleep. I didn't even want to live. Every morning when I woke up, I had some coffee and I went out for a walk to get some fresh air. But, that didn't help me to forget either.
Days passed. I was feeling better now. Of course, the pain was still in my heart, but I had to get used to it.
I went to the storeroom to grab a photo album. Going through Rosa's pictures, I lighted a cigarette. I had never smoked before. It tasted horrible, but I thought I had to smoke it, out of necessity to lessen the pains I was having.
It was three months later when I realized that I shouldn't in fact have started smoking. Even though it was hard, I could give it up.
My life had been really monotonous after Rosa's death. Every night, we used to play cards with a cup of coffee or a glass of red wine beside the fireplace. "You're cheating.", she would say, laughing. Without a word, I would throw my last card on the table to end the game. Then we would go to bed together. We would hug each other and fall asleep without waking up until the rooster in our backyard would make his wake up call. After waking up to the rooster, I would leave the bedroom, quietly, to brew coffee and prepare breakfast made of cheese, bagel and tomatoes that I had planted in our backyard. Then, I would go back to bedroom to give Rosa a nice kiss on the cheek, to wake her up.
After the breakfast, we would go outside for a walk. Sometimes to a park, sometimes to the lakeshore to have some tea.
Rosa and I had met each other when we were in high school. Friends would never have imagined that we would get married one day, because they thought that high school loves did not last forever.
But ours did.
After Rosa passed away, I got sick. I was having a severe depression that affected my health. Doctors told me that I had to take my medicines on regular basis to recover.
But I didn't.
I was pretty sure that pills wouldn't help me; or at least, they would help me to a degree, but not completely.
I started smoking again. Three per day... Seven per day... Fifteen per day... Twenty-five per day... My body could not handle this amount, of course, due to my age. My health started to worsen every day. Doctors were now telling me that there was no way for me to recover anymore. I just accepted the fact that it was almost the time.
The time to go where Rosa is; if she was actually somewhere.
Seeing the Doctor had become a routine process for me. Once a week, I would go and see my Doctor, listen to same things he said every week, and then leave to go directly to home. But one day, the thing the Doctor said to me was different; not different at all, but really important. He told me that I had only two months to live; that my sickness got even more severe due to depression, stress and the cigarettes.
After hearing this, I went directly to home, as I always did. After that day, I never visited my Doctor again. After that day, I never went out for a walk.
I just accepted the fact that it was almost the time.
I went in my bed. With my shaky hands reaching the nightstand, I grabbed the cigarette pack for the last time.
I pulled one out and I lit it.
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139,558 Literary Works • 672,608 Reviews
This piece is very ironic. The idea that the character is going to smoke himself to death in the same way Rosa did is something that I think strikes a nerve with a lot of people. Although, I'm not entirely sure how he knows this will be his last cigarette??? The idea that he seems to have acquired cancer this quickly is somewhat exaggerated.
I suppose with suspension of disbelief it becomes acceptable.
This is a very dark work and a sensitive issue.
It was handled with some care.
Very thought provoking.
The plot was really good. There was a good connection. The characters were lively. The way you go on to unfold the story is commendable. The ideas were well executed. The end was also well planned. The only oddity I spotted was that the plot was very predictable. I read the first few lines and I knew what it was all about. There were no twists or turns. It went in a very straight forward manner. I would have liked if you'd have experimented with the plot a bit. But that doesn't mean your way of going about the plot was bad. It was a nice mix, only I feel a bit of experiment could have yielded better results. Overall enjoyed your piece. All the very best. Cheers!
As a previous smoker myself, I make a minor connection to this piece. You gave way to the reason the narrator started smoking. He tried to ease the pain of loss. You also gave way to how old they were. Not too descriptive, but not leaving it out either. You let us see their morning routime, and you let the narrator understand what he had done. But, having a severe depression... Depression what? Attitude, thought it would be depressive or depressing. Bout? That would work. And at the end you said a lighted, but in past tense. I pulled one out and I lit it, raising it to my lips and taking the first drag of the last cigarette I would ever smoke. Longer, granted, but describes the effect of what the narrator doing. But you could get away with, I pulled one out and I lit it. It's great on the vag bue descriptions, but don't forget to read aloud sometimes too. And excellent job on making readers connect and feel the mood and emotion.
Oh golly. Wow. I'm depressed... Which is good. That's kind of what you're going for. So... kudos, I think. As someone who recently had a friend take up smoking (and beat into quitting) I had an unwanted connection to this. But good! Because almost everyone knows a smoker, and most everyone who doesn't smoke wishes that their person would give it up.
I appreciate that you seem so dedicated to the story throughout. It's clear, and to the point, and very moving. In a sad way. But good, like I mentioned. You show the different reasons people smoke, and how empty someone can feel once they lose someone. It's hard. And honestly, you just don't care.
As for grammar/spelling, there were only a couple sentences I found wonky. One was the "having a severe depression" mention- it made me double take. It would just be suffering from severe depression, not really spoken of as an object. (unless you wanted to get all abstract and artsy with your writing)
Overall, I really enjoyed this, in a sick sort of way. Keep on doing what you're doing!
- Renn