Technology says it won’t kill me, this electronic cigarette. It’s steam, healthier, like that cloud up there: that juicy black cloud churning over the Oregon mountains. Well, maybe the lungs were a bit black back then, but I was happy, even at the risk of a gagging, choking journey into the endless abyss–what witnessing the death-sighs of a friend can do to a man’s willpower. His name was Lenny. I should say is Lenny. Funny how that works after they’re gone. No last name anymore; just Lenny, forever Lenny, camping out in a guest room of my brain, kicking back on a couch, always available for a chat….