Creature: Introduction

I have always preferred Camel Wides. They seem to fit my large stature better than the average cigarette. After having a nearly exclusive smoking history with Camel Wides, I am immediately aware that the cigarette I am now smoking is definitely not a Wide.

I know this even despite the blindfold.

Smoking is a tidal activity for me. The ebb and flow. The nicotide comes in and I'll chain smoke, shelling out clouds and rings with a nonchalance that would make Mr. Caterpillar fear for the future of my bronchial alveolar and sometimes the tide would sink back and the very thought of a cigarette would make my overly sensitive stomach churn and heat up and I can almost feel the ulcer forming in it's lining. Even the smell would repulse me, when only a week earlier I could smoke a wide from start to finish and never even take the damned thing out of my mouth. At the time of the crest, the cigarette would sooth me and yet activate me at the same time.

I am the sniper.

Likewise, when the wave subsides, wides send me into a trembling fit and I'm useless for about 15 minutes, the general span of a cigarette's effect. These phases seem to be triggered by nothing. Seasons, emotions, moon cycle, alcohol level, cool factor, nothing seems to affect it. I never feel like I NEED a cigarette even if sometimes I may desperately WANT one.

Until. This. One.

This one, I NEED.

More than I need food, or water, or love, or family or, most ironically, air.

I need this cigarette because I'm being killed and there's nothing but smoking to do about it.