The Kitchen Table

The kitchen is where she sat alone. Alone to dream, alone to ponder the things that were important to her. The window in the corner was left open to let in the fresh, albeit, humid southern air of the afternoon. Her cat lay sleeping on the chair next to her. She watched him for a moment and wondered if he dreams. "Do cats dream?" Fresh wildflowers, picked yesterday, sit in a vase on the table she made with her own two hands. Her mind wandered back to yesterday; that day was much better than today. That day was full of promise and hope for the days to come. But, that was yesterday.
She watched out the window as the clouds moved across the sky changing the colors of the day and wondered if it would rain. This was Mississippi and the weather changes slowly in Mississippi. She often watched as storms rolled in from the west bringing with them the warm rain of the summer. She looked down at her cat who was still sleeping. She noticed he had changed positions and questioned just how long she had been staring out that window. He looked peaceful.
She reached for her pack of cigarettes, Camel Lights, opened the box and pulled one out. This was the one thing that she hated most about herself. She tried to remember back to a time when she didn't feel chained to this familiar box; that was a long time ago. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a lighter. Flick!
With very puff she watched as the smoke twisted and turned through the kitchen window. She sat with that cigarette, between her two fingers, as her mind wandered again. She looked down at her hand with a cry! She flinched and the cigarette fell to the old, stained kitchen floor. She jumped up, grabbing it, and ran to the sink. She ran it under the water and tossed it into the trash as she reached for the running water with her other hand. The cool water felt soothing on the two tiny red burns on those fingers.
She flipped off the water and turned back towards the window. With one swift movement she slammed it shut. She grabbed the familiar box and little black lighter from the table and stuffed the two back into her pocket. She pushed in the chair which made a horrible screech across that old floor scaring the cat who went tearing through the room and out the door. She lifted her wrist to check the time, 2:20.
She heard beautiful, tiny laughter coming from the living room. Walking back through the kitchen door, she glancing back at the kitchen table. The time for daydreams was over, it was now time to get back to reality. Only 10 minutes had passed but to her this felt like an eternity. These are the moments where she is alone to dream; alone to ponder the things that were important to her. She knew what the important things were and the most important thing of all was staring up at here with beautiful blue eyes.
"I love you, Mommy!"