Going for Smokes

Date: 1/10/2023

TLC leans in close and giddy as I'm sitting in the boss's reception area. "Lend me a smoke. I'm just dying for a smoke right now." Lib Jane watches with expectation. There is something wrong with the clocks. They all say 6:30, like the hands have fallen down. Are we early? Is it Daylight Savings Time? "I don't smoke. Haven't smoked for a couple of years." She looks so dissapointed. "I could go get a pack and we could have one together." I know that's a bad idea, but work doesn't start for hours so I walk across the campus to the bookstore where I've heard they still sell smokes under the table if you ask. But they don't. The man looks at me with horror when I ask. Past him there's another shack with the top half of a door open. Maybe that's the place. Definitely looks under-the-tablish. As I approach, a jolly, plump man is calling, "Welcome to the Union Store!" They all laugh inside. "What kind do you want?" he asks. There is a line forming behind me so I'm feeling rushed. "Players," I say. "Nope," he says. I try to think of another common brand. DuMaurier? That doesn't sound right. Sounds too fancy, French. "I know they come in a red packet," I try, while others behind me groan and become impatient. He raises an eyebrow. "I see!" and pulls out a long red box and hands it to me. The Union President glides out of the shack, smiling for the cameras. She is on her way to a health and safety meeting about the building that just blew up. It's a long winding walk back through many buildings and paths. As I get closer, I call TLC so she will meet me outside. I join her and Jane outside our building by the courtyard entrance wall where every is smoking. I tell her I can't graduate until I sort out the "plagiarism thing", not like I copied someone's work; more of a technical thing, something to do with the door. I try to explain but the story is getting away from me. She is looking at me like I'm guilty. I pull a cigarette from the box and even light it, but I don't smoke.