Emma Ritter Narrative

Inhale. Smoke fills the lungs of the young man.  Exhale. The smoke leaves his body. Little does he
know that with every inhale and exhale he is changing his future. “These damned crops are never gonna
grow” Clark sighed and took another puff. All he could think about was the time, energy and money that
he has spent over the past fifteen years.  He took another puff. He thought about his family. His loving
wife and three perfect children. All three of them so young and innocent. Clark felt the dry air crack
his lips. He took another puff. He prayed for rain. The drought had already put him behind thousands
of dollars. The longer it went on the harder it was for him to fake the reality. Clark blew his last puff,
put out his cigarette and walked home.

He took a heavy breath before opening the front door.  The door creaked open, and his three kids
met him with loving arms.  “How was your day, honey?” his wife asks as the dinner is cooking on the
stove.  “It was good” Clark lied, trying to save his wife from the inconvenience. He knows they will
not be living there much longer.  He avoids it. “I will be right back,” he tells his family. He grabs his
bag and walks out into the warm air. He lights a cigarette, and he takes a puff.  “This air is making it
hard to breathe,” he thought as his lungs filled with smoke. He threw the burning end of the cigarette
on the floor and twisted his boot over it.  

The next day Clark began to give up.  His lungs were filling with the outside air. His mind was
cloudy and his thoughts were scattered.  The cigarettes that once used to satisfy him made him feel
worse. He was slowly killing himself. He smoked his last cigarette. Harvested his last row of crops.
He was dry inside.