nene's nook

Her day had begun as they usually did, an ever-powerful feeling of existential dread. Today, though, she had an extra task on her agenda: grocery shopping. It was a weekly activity she thought would give the tiniest of nudges in the space-time continuum that was her life, but an eventual mundaneness became of that too.

Oh. Yeah. It’s my birthday, she remembered while pushing forward to check out.

Beside her sat a stand of candies, ranging from a single Hershey kiss to an aquatic-flavored Skittles pack. After a brief hesitation, she grabbed the Aquatic Skittle along with the pack of cigarettes sat in the column beside it.

“Sorry, ma’am, women aren’t allowed cigarettes anymore,” the store employee said, a teenager accustomed to correcting women.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s my birthday, kid. I won’t say anything if you don’t.” She winked at him.

“Ma’am, I apologize, but the government released the revised list of disapproved purchases and activities for women. Cigarettes and cigarette smoking are numbers 1,343 and 1,344.” He put away the list every employee was required to have within an arm’s length at all times.

Something unusual came over her. A palpable, undeniable rage.

When she didn’t set down the cigarettes, the teen glanced down at them and then up at her, the same unamused expression pressed against his face. “The government said women don’t even like smoking.”

“The government is a group of golf buddies. They don’t know what women like.”

“Ma’am, again, I’m going to have to ask you to put the cigarettes–.”

She ran.

The following day’s news anchor shook his head, disappointedly, before reading, “Folks, it looks like we have our own local, radical feminist. Last seen stealing a pack of cigarettes, watch out for this woman. Next thing you know, she’ll be marching in our streets and asking for rights.” He laughed with his co-anchor.