Clouds Of Smoke… The Story. Gianluigi Ciaramellari
long, strong fingers, well-manicured nails, unusually long for a man.
Since he also had long nails, particularly the thumb and pinkie of his right hand, in order to pinch the guitar chords, he wondered if Damien kept them long for the same reason, but he refrained from asking him.
“Well Massimo, now we just have to decide which tobacco flavour and which degree of nicotine you want to load your cigarette with!” Massimo glanced at the liquids in the display case, there was a great number and variety of brands, all arranged in groups, by brand, by taste and degree of nicotine, but not knowing what to choose, he turned to Damien:
“What do you recommend?”
“To begin with, - said Damien heading towards the liquids showcase – I need to know what type of cigarette you are used to smoking, whether light or strong, aromatic or not.”
“I smoke these, - and he pulled out the packet – about 15 a day!”
“Alright, Massimo, - he said while opening the showcase and pulling out a little bottle – I think this tobacco flavour is the one for you, it contains about twelve milligrams of nicotine per millilitre, therefore, the amount loaded in the tank of the e-cig, corresponds to the amount of nicotine absorbed by about six of your analogue cigarettes”.
Damien explained to Massimo how to carry out the calculation of the absorbed nicotine compared to that of traditional cigarettes, he told him that he multiplied the degree of nicotine to the millilitres of the e-cig charger, divided the result by four and also divided it by the degree of nicotine of a cigarette smoked by Massimo. This confirmed the fact that the nicotine absorbed by vaporization is one-fourth of the one actually contained in the charger, and this was also confirmed by several tests performed in laboratories. While explaining this calculation, Damien filled the charger, calling it "atomizer", showed Massimo all the steps he should follow and advised him to be careful not to pour the contents of the flask onto his hands, and in such a case he should immediately wash them, because nicotine is easily absorbed by the skin.
Then, once he ended the sale, he came out from behind the counter to say goodbye to him.
“Thank you Massimo, for passing by, you won’t regret it, today you made an important purchase for your health and you gained another friend. – He looked into his eyes kindly - Come see me whenever you want, I'll let you try new flavours, I’ll lead you along the path away from smoking, we can talk, you can tell me about your experience and keep me updated!”
Massimo returned Damien’s smile and at the same time, he felt the urge to confess his tendency to be inconsistent.
“You know, - he said lowering his head – I’m not sure I’ll be able to quit smoking; every time I’ve tried I failed after just a few days!”
“Don’t limit yourself - Damien answered promptly – don’t think of the past. You're trying something new now, make pretend that this is the first time you decided to quit and especially, remember that you are not abandoning nicotine, the gestures, the little clouds you puff, the taste of tobacco! - Then he put a hand on his shoulder, and Massimo felt a reassuring warmth that made him turn towards the mirror attached to the wall - Here, sit here, in the middle of this rosette on the floor and look at yourself in the mirror.”
Massimo had already noticed the strange pattern in the middle of the store, a curious and geometrically perfect decoration, a mosaic made of colourful tiles in concentric circles.
He sat at the centre of the rosette and curiously looked at his reflection in the mirror.
“Look at yourself in the mirror – Damien repeated - and repeat with all your determination: “I will stop smoking, I will stop smoking, I will stop smoking”.
Massimo promised, while looking at his reflection and as he vowed he felt to be strangely solemn and sincere.
“Now, - Damien added - you have carved this promise in your soul.”
Part four (the reward)
Massimo left the store saying goodbye to Damien, without looking away from his eyes which held him locked like a powerful magnet from which he could not escape.
Finally he lowered his head and walked quickly away, with his mind still reflected on the store mirror, in which he had sworn to give up smoking.
It was six o'clock in the afternoon, the days of mid-March had lengthened and mild temperatures allowed staying out until late at night, to walk, visit the city and feel that spring was already in the air, go window shopping... Oh... No, no, he had shopped enough for one day, he thought, although he didn’t regret what he had just done.
He absently put his hand in his jean pocket to pull out his lighter, and then from the pocket of his jacket he pulled out the pack of cigarettes. What was he doing? He stopped himself when he had almost brought the cigarette to his mouth in the act of lighting it, saw his reflection in the window of a bar, and remembered Damien, with his glowing green eyes: “…Now, you have carved this promise in your soul… “.
He was overwhelmed by the urge to smoke; he had never wanted a cigarette so much in his life. A man who was smoking casually passed by him and he turned his head in the direction of the smoke, craning his neck and opening his nostrils to catch the grey exhalation, his hand was bringing the lighter to his mouth and his eyes never left his reflection in the window. His mind was fighting a gruelling round; a strange force pulled the flame away from the tip of the rolled tobacco that was panting as much as he was; another force, intentional, brought it close again in the need to satisfy his desire. But the roll remained unlit, because he finally decided to trigger the new electronic cigarette button, he then pulled it out and took a puff.
He took such a long one and he inhaled so much of it that he was afraid he would fuse the battery. He found satisfaction, yes, and decided to put the package back in his jacket pocket.
“For now I can resist”, he thought. He saluted his image in the window of the bar, someone inside probably thought that the greeting was addressed to him, but Massimo turned away and continued walking, pleased with himself for not giving in to the tobacco industry.
Shaking his head he resumed walking, he decided that a walk would have relaxed him; he would continue to vape his electronic cigarette on his way home. Once he got home he would put his cigarettes on top of a closet, perhaps he would toss them up there, no matter where they ended.
The taste of tobacco which he was savouring was not bad indeed, it had a pleasant aromatic aftertaste; it didn’t give him bad breath, it satisfied his desire for nicotine and the steam coming out of his mouth was even whiter and more dense than that of a cigarette.
A cat crossed his path, passing almost over his feet, and hid in a garbage can. That morning the market had taken place on that street. Several cats were busy rummaging through papers and other debris, even food, spread across the ground. In the distance he saw that the vans of the garbage collectors were already arriving, to clean up the street and the plaza.
The black cat reappeared putting his nose out from his hiding place, staring at Massimo with a look of defiance, his eyes were green like Damien’s, and he made a gesture with his paw that seemed an invitation, “Come here if you dare!” it seemed to say.
But it wasn’t a challenge. The cat had something under his paw, something made of paper and on which was imprinted an image, a five-pointed star, like Damien’s earring, but it didn’t shine.
Massimo approached the cat, leaned over and was surprised to see that... Beside the star with five grey tips, was impressed the number 50. He had found fifty euros! Wow, the same amount he had spent in Damien’s store! He picked it up promptly, heedless of the cat who ran away quickly, without asking for a reward.
Part five (stop the clock!)
Sonia had just left the Doctor’s Office; the results of her tests were not good at all. Her hands were trembling from the sudden feeling of weakness; she almost fainted before those papers on which her destiny was written. Inexorably.
“First