There is the comforting feel of the cigarette in resting between fingers. The brush of paper against curling lips and even the slightest intake of breath, even before the end is lit, sends a soothing train of reassurance that relieves and relaxes right down to the fingertips.

It’s a companion, a breath of fresh air, a life-giver, a…

… murderer.

“Slowly, but eventually, it probably will kill you.”

You couldn’t care less. That is, until the doctor decides he’s going to lighten the mood.

“Well, Mr Raines – this is your new best friend.”

You look at the tank and glare.