as my family boarded the train heading for harbourfront, i sat down wearily among the rows of empty seats. it was late and there were only few passengers. i was looking out of the window, staring at the wall of the tunnel. when the train began to move, i let my thoughts run. i was feeling fatigue since i slept for only three hours the day before. the occasional reminder of reporting anything which is suspicious through the train system had broke my train of thought for the moment...
but... ah yes... the smell of his smoke still lingers on within me. i had been breathing it since i was a child and has not stopped since. it was standard. one stick in the morning before he goes to work, one stick when he reaches home, and a couple more sticks after dinner and before he goes to bed. (God knows how many sticks sticks that he has smoked a day during his work) as time goes by, i guess the smell just gradually grew onto me and did not wear off. somehow, the smell of the particular brand of cigarette that he smokes gave me a feeling of assurance that he is there taking his time out and enjoying his break...
recalling back, i remembered my naivety when i was a small child; barely eight i think. the smell of his smoke then was untolerable to me and i had to pinch my nose in protest everytime to avoid inhaling it. in my tiny mind, i knew that smoking was wrong just like it was common sense. so one day, i cheerfully drew no-smoking signs and pasted it everywhere in the house. be it the toilet, the bedrooms and of course, the balcony (his favourite smoking place). all of those were done in hope that he would change his habit and stop smoking. of course, i was proved wrong...
in the blink of an eye, time flew by. since that day onwards, i had never ask him to quit smoking again. now everytime he smokes, at best, i just try to walk away. however, the smell of his smoke is still there in the air and there's just no escaping to it...
suddenly, i realised that it is time for us to get out of the train. turning towards him, i saw his tired looking face with eyes that were red. i just smiled as we continued our way home. unknowingly, i had treated his smoking habit as a part of him and embraced it with such familiarity. perhaps someday, i will try persuading him to quit smoking. someday...