Marenaq 3.

Once, I was smoking a cigarette outside of my house. As I walked to the end of the driveway to throw the butt into the street, I was reminded of Alaska. I am sure many people in Alaska smoke cigarettes. Just to forget the cold; create a blanket of smoke with a lit fag to keep you warm. Not that I had ever been to Alaska. There was just snow everywhere and the houses hugged the street, huddled for warmth. The sun glared against the glossy surface of the snow banks. I’m not sure I have ever read of Alaska but there are movies—Snow Dogs, The Proposal, and Into the Wild. Except this time, in Providence, I see an Alaska with telephone poles carved by the scarred hands of assimilation.