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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.) Many thanks.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior
Genre: Histrionic Faction
Word Count: 100
UNLUCKY STRIKE
Remember how commercials bombarded us with catchy slogans?
“I’d rather fight than switch.”
“Winston tastes good, like a cigarette should.”
Serling delivered his famous Twilight Zone intros while wisps of smoke framed his face.
During his renowned interviews in the 1950’s, Mike Wallace brandished his ubiquitous coffin nail.
I coughed. “I wish you’d quit smoking those nasty things, Mommy.”
Taking a long drag, she covered a burn hole in her skirt with a daisy applique. “I need them to calm my nerves.”
She finally quit in 1980—just a year before lung cancer claimed her.
“Were they worth it, Mom?”
These little goodies came on the back Raleigh cigarettes. You could save them and buy all kinds of things, from jewelry to appliances. We used to joke that Mom would use hers for an iron lung. Somehow that’s not as funny as it used to be.
