ABSTRACT
I haven’t called Betty in a week, which is a record of sorts. I didn’t want to walk about in her world. I was withdrawing, calling other friends. But I feel guilty, so I call her. She tells me that she is “recovering” and that she has been outside and driven herself around the corner to the Burger King to get a Coke. When she says, “I feel as if I’ve done something,” I can hear anger toward me in her voice. “Do you realize how hard it is for me to be outside and not smoke?”
