I woke up early next morning to a bruised hand. Now, this wasn’t any normal bruise. There were cuts across the knuckles and the knuckle of the middle finger was swollen as big as the finger itself. I looked around, and all of them were gone. All that remained was three unsmoked but lighted up cigarettes alongside the edges of the sofa. Now, I would have actually thought of calling Jeffry for help and all, but today, I had a certain sense of clarity. I mean, there couldn’t really be another me! I was just going paranoid because I haven’t really slept that well. Also, I have seen a lot of movies like this. I picked up the cigarette pieces and put it in my pocket. If you like, just saw me, doing that, I assure you, you’d think I was one of those street plastic collectors. No offense to anyon...