Those Stairs They led from the Souplantation parking lot to the busy street below. Surrounded by suburban North County San Diego ice plant that bloomed in late spring, getting us in the mood for summer. Those stairs. Too narrow and steep for anyone to climb comfortably unless they were able-bodied and young. Like me at the time. Like most of my coworkers. They had their own personality. Sharp and asymmetrical, even cracked in some places, but: Stable. Accepting. Available. Thrice a shift, I sat at the top of those stairs smoking a Camel Wide, Lucky Strike with filter, or Newport 100, depending upon which cashier I sweet-talked into buying me a carton for that month. I would save up all my tips and pay double for those cartons. At the time, it was so worth it. The feel of the cigarette between my fingers, the taste on my tongue, the sting in my lungs, nothing better. No better place. ~ CLS Ferguson
FLAR / Fall 2016 / Volume 4, Issue 2
184