A small group of guys hung about Alligator Way, smoking up a storm and staring blankly at groups of guys, all just smoking. It was a typical occupation for folks who had nothing to do, and it could last for hours.

But today, July 15, all black clouds had finally drawn to an abrupt stop.

Bill sank down to soft grass with an odd sort of frown on his lips.

“What’s this?”

Thomas sat with him. “Cops said, no smoking.”

“I ain’t gonna put up with that stupid law!”

“Got to. It’s a LAW.”

“Smoking’s what I do for a living, Tom, and frankly, cops can put up laws, but I ain’t gonna put up with this!”

An admiring look from Thomas, who promptly stood up again.

“I ain’t gonna do no smoking agin or I’ll git in jail for it.”

“Jail didn’t stop Rosa Parks.”

“Man, that is so not what this is about. This smoking thing ain’t black rights and crap. This is a law to- to follow!”

…And thus, both had to start smoking.