2.1 Smoke bombs
Thursday. Night. Sherwood. I mentally prepared myself for what's to come on this Happy Thursday to celebrate a friend's birthday. I entered passing dozens of students, making my way through and inside where we will meet with friends. Right then and there, the stench of nicotine from the smoke, fruity pungent odor of alcohol and various kinds of sweat came at me like a pouncing cheetah.
What I hated most was the cigarette smoke that I distinctly detect apart from any other kind. It makes me want to cover not only my nose, but my entire face cause my eyes would also well up. It's as if it also reaches my throat, leaving a kind of clog when I breathe through my mouth. It's not just any kind of smoke, but the kind whose smell lingers on my clothes, even days after. To the point that it lasts on my hair and skin, even after bathing the following day. Just like that time when a friend started smoking beside me indoors - there was no escape. That was just horrible. I bet I was inhaling only twenty percent of oxygen.
