wesley gibson hall

dad smoked.

My dad smoked. First pipes, then cigars, then cigarettes with filters.

I remember him bending over and prolongedly hacking - mucus, blood, whatever he'd dispose of.

I was always bothered by the smoke. Somehow it always seemed to gravitate towards me. I remember him telling me once it always gravitated towards the people who didn't like it, the youngest in the family; Lynn hated it too.

my father | dad | life

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