January 13, 2017
Ronnie was walking past the old grocery on Main and Dugan Street. The lights were on inside, splayed out across the sidewalk. He was approached by a raggedy older man who asked for a cigarette. Nervous, Ronnie said he didn’t have any cigarettes and moved to the side to get around the man, but the man moved the same way blocking his path. “Not one smoke?” he whined. “I told you I don’t have any,” Ronnie said. “I don’t smoke.” The man’s hands were moving in the dark shadows of his coat. Ronnie tried to see what he was doing.