I watch closely, as he places the cigarette in his mouth, pulls the lighter out of his pocket, lights up the cigarette and takes the first pull. He Inhales the smoke as though his life depended on it and slowly exhales. The first pulls seems like the most gratifying as though he’d just been released from an unquenchable thirst. It’s as though smokers have a universal language It’s as though they all understand the necessity of a smoke and what it feels like to be without it. The word ‘skyf’ – could save somebodies life. I don’t get it, the big fuss around inhaling nicotine from a stick. I gather around them as they pass it around and watch how fulfilling it is for them, I watch wondering how what looks to me like an awful smelling stick that emits more toxins into the o zone layer is a lifeline to so many. The first cigarette dies out, another one follows and more follow in succession. Chain smoking, giving life while simultaneously bringing death. It’s as though smokers have a universal language.