On a cooling Monday evening, two boys were walking towards the supermarket. It was a splendid time of the day. Stomachs feeling full from a dinner of sardines and green bean soup. Important tasks for the day were completed. Less than an hour to go before their favourite drama airs on TV.
They bought a variety of food, household items and the cigarettes which their tobacco-addicted father craved for. The boys were still a distance from the legal age of smoking. However, knowing the supermarket cashier for a decade can change the way how things should be. The cashier was an old lady, in her sixties, and she had always adored the boys ever since they dropped their first milk teeth.
The boys always picked the old lady when they were at the supermarket. Even if her counter had a long queue, they were willing to spend those extra minutes for they knew that the additional time wasted would grant them the freedom of purchasing tobacco.
When they returned home, their father was asleep on the sofa which has been torn and worn out over the years. Only the owners of such sofas were able to rest on them so comfortably. The television was still turned on, with the news programme ending in three minutes before the drama starts.
They woke their father up and he struggled for a while before acknowledging them with an irritated response using his shoulders.
"Pa, the cigarettes are on the table, don't smoke too much. Take care of yourself."
The man woke up after a minute had passed, finally. He scanned the living room. There was no cigarette box on the table, the news anchor was reporting on an accident and the clock was half past ten. He had fallen asleep for a good two hours.
"We have received breaking news. About an hour ago, two boys, aged 16 and 15, were killed in a tragic accident involving a container truck at ...."
He blinked twice in a nanosecond to make sure that everything was real. Unfortunately, it was real. The man saw the names and photos of his sons on TV. A old lady who was witness was being interviewed.
"They always came here in the evening to buy cigarettes for their father, I never questioned them. If I did, I would be creating inconvenience for them. They are already leading such a hard life with their useless father. They, they..."
She could hardly continue speaking clearly as tears flowed down her cheeks.
The man dropped to his knees while his eyes continued to stare at the television. He scanned the living room one more time. No cigarettes, no grocery bags, no sons.
There was only an isolated figure, crying so hard that tears did not come out of his eyes.
They bought a variety of food, household items and the cigarettes which their tobacco-addicted father craved for. The boys were still a distance from the legal age of smoking. However, knowing the supermarket cashier for a decade can change the way how things should be. The cashier was an old lady, in her sixties, and she had always adored the boys ever since they dropped their first milk teeth.
The boys always picked the old lady when they were at the supermarket. Even if her counter had a long queue, they were willing to spend those extra minutes for they knew that the additional time wasted would grant them the freedom of purchasing tobacco.
When they returned home, their father was asleep on the sofa which has been torn and worn out over the years. Only the owners of such sofas were able to rest on them so comfortably. The television was still turned on, with the news programme ending in three minutes before the drama starts.
They woke their father up and he struggled for a while before acknowledging them with an irritated response using his shoulders.
"Pa, the cigarettes are on the table, don't smoke too much. Take care of yourself."
The man woke up after a minute had passed, finally. He scanned the living room. There was no cigarette box on the table, the news anchor was reporting on an accident and the clock was half past ten. He had fallen asleep for a good two hours.
"We have received breaking news. About an hour ago, two boys, aged 16 and 15, were killed in a tragic accident involving a container truck at ...."
He blinked twice in a nanosecond to make sure that everything was real. Unfortunately, it was real. The man saw the names and photos of his sons on TV. A old lady who was witness was being interviewed.
"They always came here in the evening to buy cigarettes for their father, I never questioned them. If I did, I would be creating inconvenience for them. They are already leading such a hard life with their useless father. They, they..."
She could hardly continue speaking clearly as tears flowed down her cheeks.
The man dropped to his knees while his eyes continued to stare at the television. He scanned the living room one more time. No cigarettes, no grocery bags, no sons.
There was only an isolated figure, crying so hard that tears did not come out of his eyes.
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