- Uh, hey… sir. How’s it going?
You want to know the worst part about being a former smoker, Geoffrey?
- Not really, no.
It’s the fact that no matter where you go in this filth-covered city there’s somebody blowing smoke in your direction. You can’t get away from it. You can’t walk down the street without getting stuck behind a smoker. So there’s this constant reminder of cigarettes. Meanwhile, my former smoker self still exists in muscle memory somewhere, like a phantom hiding between my muscle fibers, twitching as he waits for a chance to seize control. All I can do is feel the muscles in my torso tense, my nostrils flare, my breathing become forced, and I murder the smoker in my mind.
- You’re kind of weird, you know that?