The sunlight was bundled up tightly with the passing of dawn. Goku slid his timid frame out of his house and seated himself on the creaky wood that made his porch. Rubbing the sleep from his tired face, Goku took a whiff of the early morning aroma. It smelled of freshly cut grass and newly fertilized greens. He discovered his hand wondering to the cigarette case that lay protected in his tattered, jeans pocket. He pulled it out. It was brown and dented with intertwining, elegant designs complimenting it. He lit a cigarette. I should quit this.

He started smoking five years ago after befriending Old man Herb. One day he wandered in to the elderly man's bar looking for some hope and a way to unwind. With the drinking came the smoking. It wasn't a lot. It wasn't like Ole' Herb. Herb could inhale six cigarettes and down five six-packs quicker than Goku could blink. Goku snickered a little as he reminisced Herb's wife commenting on the fact that Herb gained back the elephant he'd been carrying from smoking, and got it back from drinking. Herb's wife should speak. She could smoke more than anyone alive. Goku snickered again.

By now Goku had the nicotine stick to his mouth and he huffed it gratefully. One glance around the outside of the house retold him everything he and his family had gone through to get there. Years of labor under sweaty men who couldn't handle their debts made it unbearable, but they made it by the skin of their teeth. Goku stretched back on the porch, allowing the smoke to tickle his throat. One hour passed. Two hours passed. Three hours passed.

After the next thirty minutes Goku pulled out the fourth cigarette. Poking it inbetween his crooked teeth, his throat tightened and rejected the painful smoke. Too much was too much. Choking was something he found himself in the middle of quite often these years. Coughing harshly, Goku realized that this time seemed much harder than the others. They always did. The grey smoke billowed out of the little paper stick as tears trickled down his face. Yanking out a handkerchief, Goku gripped it to his mouth, wheezing. His wife had told him to quit, but it just wasn't something was ready for. ChiChi was too gentle to quarrel about it much. Goku disliked displeasing her, but he had no choice. I can't quit.

With that Goku got up, squinting his eyes into now billowing sunlight. He slouched as his son quickly exited the house and went on his way to school. Goku shoved his hands in his denim pockets, wondering when he would have the money to send his boys to a decent school. Old Herb tried to reassure him that everything comes in its time. And it does. Just wait and see.