Walk out of the courtroom

"Rough day. You earned it. Nobody has to know." The urge has its closing argument ready, and it's a smooth talker. It paces the room like a lawyer who hates to lose. It's waiting for your rebuttal. You don't owe it one. You're allowed to stop listening halfway through.

Its reasons are flimsy. Bad day, so smoke. Good day, so smoke. Bored, stressed, celebrating, same answer. The cigarette has an excuse for every mood. That's how you know none of them are real. It isn't after a reason. It wants a yes, and it'll keep talking until you're too tired to say no.

Give your voice a better job. Sing something, even under your breath. A hymn, a chorus, whatever song has been stuck in your head this week. It's hard to argue and carry a tune at the same time. God isn't waiting on your closing statement, either. He already ruled that you walk out free.

Keep going until the speech trails off. It can plead to empty benches all day. You left the courtroom two verses ago, and nothing it said followed you out. Case closed, and you never even took the stand.