X-Ray

“You can’t ask for cigarettes if you think you’re actually having a heart attack.”

A disgruntled security to an older man in a worn yellow rain jacket and a deep purple shiner under his left eye.

I’d wonder if I’d want a cigarette if I was actually having a heart attack.

I doubt I’d be asking two men, one with crutches and knee brace, in a jolly tone, for a smoke if my heart started doing the bachata.