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Clouds Of Smoke… The Story
Gianluigi Ciaramellari
Damien is the charismatic owner of an electronic cigarette store in Florence. He’s wise, spiritual, rich and above all, he has a healing power that comes from water, like steam. Desperate souls come to Damien’s store unknowingly searching for help. Like Sonia, a beautiful girl consumed by a cancer; or Massimo, overwhelmed by serious economic problems; or Giorgio, a wealthy young man who is apparently shallow, but hides a past of anguish and darkness
Clouds of smoke…
The story
Damien is the attractive owner of an electronic cigarette store in Florence.He’s unfathomable, mystical, rich and above all, he has a healing power which is born from water, like steam. Desperate souls unconsciously come to Damien’s store for help. Like Sonia, a beautiful girl devoured by cancer; or Massimo, afflicted by serious economic problems; or Giorgio, young, rich and seemingly superficial, who hides within him the seed of Evil and pain.
Barbara Mennitti (Sigmagazine)
"The struggle between good and evil, in this novel, assumes the fashion of a thriller and it’ll surely catch all readers’ attention"
Sellerio Publisher
"The value of this anagogical book makes it essential, one of those books that you have to have on your shelf, because it’s much deeper than it seems. A work that makes you feel better than you did before reading it."
Sergio Bonfiglio (Aromatiere)
Gianluigi Ciaramellari
Clouds of smoke…
The story
To my Grandparents
Silvio and Vera
Clouds of smoke…The story
by Gianluigi Ciaramellari
Let me tell you a story that
began in an electronic cigarette store,
managed by a mysterious character.
Make yourselves comfortable...
Any resemblance to actual persons and to actual events is purely coincidental.
Health warning
Always read in a well-lit environment. Take regular breaks, about thirty minutes every hour of reading. Stop reading immediately if you experience dizziness, queasiness, lethargy or headaches. Individuals who are sensitive to flashing lights or to particular shapes or geometric forms may suffer from a type of undiagnosed epilepsy and could experience seizure attacks by reading this book. If you are caught by seizure attacks, consult your doctor (or an exorcist), or contact them as soon as you encounter one or more of the following symptoms while reading: altered vision, muscle twitching, other involuntary movements, loss of consciousness, confusion and/or seizures.
Because of the use of analogue cigarettes while reading this story and/or the use of smoking tobacco along with other additives, some individuals could experience various disorders, (such as fatigue and eye irritation, headaches or nausea). If you experience such symptoms, promptly stop using cigarettes, joints, chillums, or hookahs immediately, until the discomfort subsides.
We generally recommend avoiding a prolonged use of combustion tobacco and endorse trying an electronic cigarette (also called e-cig) for at least 15 days. However, in the beginning, the addiction recovery from smoking, the duration and frequency of the vape varies from person to person.
The reading of this book by minors (under the age of 18 years old) is yet unsafe.
While reading some short parts of the story, you will learn about certain features and functions of the electronic cigarette and its effects on health. In this novel, some effects have been enhanced beyond all limits of imagination.
Enjoy your reading and I wish all of you a "good Vape".
Gianluigi Ciaramellari
Introduction
Once, my son Sasha and I, (who was 4 years old at the time), were traveling by car on a highway, when he surprised me with another one of his “whys?”, typical of that age.
It was a winter Sunday morning and the fog did not allow a good visibility, so I drove slowly, especially where the road crossed stretches of farmland. Sasha was sitting in the back, in his “car seat”, bound by the seat belt.
At one point, on the left we saw what remained of an old sugar refinery and the child asked me why there were flashing red lights on the chimney, which was still standing. But he asked me in this manner:
“Daddy, why are the lights of that tower on?” in the rear-view mirror I saw his face awaiting my answer, he was expecting a prompt and thorough response.
“Sasha, those lights are used to warn the birds to be careful not to crash into the tower. They light them at night and when it is foggy, like today!” I replied, waiting for him to ask me a second why. Instead he kept quiet. I felt guilty for not telling him that that was not a tower. Then I stopped the car in a rest area.
The old refinery was truly a ruin, only the "tower" still stood high and proud, it looked like a rocket stuck in the ground, after precipitating and destroying everything around it.
“Sasha – I said, trying to find the easiest words for him - that's not a tower. It’s a chimney and when it was alive, it smoked a lot.”
He looked at me as if I was about to tell him a story of wizards and dragons.
“Then it died because it smoked too much?” I wished I could have recorded him.
“No, it died because nobody needed it anymore” I noticed a change in his expression, he looked sorry.
“You know, - I continued - the chimney is a tall, tall tube, which is necessary to blow the smoke of the fire that is lit at its foot into the sky.” Sasha looked at the chimney and, without taking his eyes off of it, he asked again:
“Daddy, then all the clouds in the sky are made of smoke?” I needed to find a simple and short answer. You never know where children’s questions may lead you.
“No Sasha, smoke comes from fire, and clouds come from water and all the clouds in the sky are made of water.”
And for the rest of the trip, my son wanted to know everything, about smoke, fire, clouds and water.
Gianluigi Ciaramellari
Gen, 1
In the beginning God
created the heavens
and the earth.
Now the earth was
formless and empty,
darkness was over the
surface of the deep,
and the Spirit of God
was hovering over the waters.
CHAPTER ONE
First entries
Part one (the first time)
Massimo occasionally went through the street of the Novoli district of Florence in which he lived, by foot or by car, and he marvelled that he had never noticed that shop before. It seemed strange to him that in the year 2015, in the midst of the economic crisis, someone had decided to open a business and, moreover, in an unfrequented suburban area.
It was a warm mid-March afternoon, one of those days that whoever could afford it, didn’t waste by working. Massimo, as a young freelancer, could afford it, however reluctantly, because his work was scarce. Therefore he strolled around casually, but that store drew his attention and he stopped to look at the shop window, discovering that they displayed electronic cigarettes. On the sign it read: "Clouds of smoke - steam cigarettes".
A middle-aged man was sitting behind the counter, absorbed on working on something that glittered. The shop was decorated simply with makeshift furniture, all in all dignified, but not fancy and modern like many other brand stores. It looked more like a tailor’s shop, those of the past, in which the tailor, while he was taking your measurements for a suit, asked you if you had had the measles during your childhood. The lighting of the shop, from the outside, looked as though it wasn’t even fit for a card game, but once inside, you realized that the light was just enough to make you feel at ease.
Later, he discovered that it was the “Light” that he had been searching for his entire life. He decided to go inside, just to get some information.
Therefore, he entered.
He pushed the glass door with some force; he pushed hard because it looked closed, instead it opened and the light that greeted him when he entered was somewhat familiar, he felt as if he was in his room, in the evening, reading a book or playing the guitar.
Within the shop one could smell delicate notes of tobacco mixed with other fragrances; it reminded Massimo of his grandmother baking apple pies, his favourite dessert.
To his left he saw himself reflected in a large antique mirror, which he guessed used to be the door of a wardrobe. In the mirror he saw that the light of the store had flushed his face and made his skin look smooth and glowing, making him look younger than his forty-three years of age.
But before he could feel any gratification, he was caught in a déjà vu. He had already seen himself in that mirror a long time ago, but at that time he had a heavy heart.
They say that these sensations are alterations of our memories. For him, however, it was a subconscious premonition.
The deep, full-bodied voice of the shopkeeper brought him back to reality.
“Hello, welcome to Clouds of smoke!” said the man while standing up, with a big smile.
“Hello, I needed some information… May I? I don’t want… That is, I’m a smoker, and…”
The younger man seemed a little uneasy, but it wasn’t actually an emotion, rather he almost physically felt the shopkeeper’s handshake, although he had only greeted him verbally. He found himself with his hand stretched out and it tingled, as if someone had actually shaken his hand vigorously
Part two (mystical attraction)
The man behind the counter was tall and lean, he had an attractive and contagious smile, a nice and elegant appearance; his eyes were emerald green, and they stood out in his olive skin face, his hair was neatly combed and he had a neatly groomed goatee, both streaked with grey. He had big hands with long thin fingers, manicured nails, although a bit longer than normal.
On his left ear he had a piercing. It was a jewel in white gold, shaped as a five-pointed star, with a small diamond in the centre. The ceiling spotlights made it sparkle for a moment, just as the man spoke.
“Our customers are also smokers; otherwise I would have closed down by now. Many of them have been able to quit, others are still working on it, but every person has his or her own time.”
While speaking, the shopkeeper picked up an electronic cigarette which he had carefully chosen from a display of various models; he put a disposable silicone mouthpiece on it and handed it to him.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I would like you to try to inhale, while pressing on the battery button.”
Massimo, without a word, took the electronic cigarette in his hand and brought it to his mouth, performing the recommended action. He took two or three puffs, then a forth, each time exhaling a white and dense steam, both from his nose and his mouth and he found it very pleasant, as it gave him the typical shot in his throat that he got when smoking a cigarette, the flavour was fine, a fragrance of tobacco mixed with currants.
“It’s great! It feels like I’m smoking!” He said, surprised by the taste.
“Exactly! – said the shopkeeper - But you didn’t smoke. You didn’t breath in all those toxic substances contained in cigarettes that are given off while they burn! What comes out of your mouth is vapour, a condensed spray of natural food flavourings, mixed with vegetable glycerine, propylene glycol and a little pharmaceutical nicotine. None of the substances I've listed are harmful to humans, if not taken in excessive doses.”
Massimo inhaled another couple of times and felt glad that he had entered that store; maybe he had found a system to break free from his smoking addiction. He handed the electronic cigarette back to the shopkeeper, but the man’s attention was focused on the front door.
“Oh! Look who’s here! – He said smiling, while he reached for the cigarette Massimo was handing him – Can you do me a favour, young man? Could you open the door for Lisa?”
Massimo turned towards the door but he didn’t see anyone.
“Sorry, for who?” He asked, surprised.
“For Lisa, who isn’t a girl, look lower down!” The other answered.
Lisa was a female Labrador, pitch black, who was knocking on the wood of the door with her paw. Massimo let the dog in, and while wagging her tail, she sat on her hind legs near the counter, barking a greeting.
The shopkeeper went to meet her, apologizing to Massimo:
“Excuse me just a minute, I'll be right with you - and patted the dog on the head - Lisa can’t leave her friend alone for a long time, can you, dear?” Lisa seemed to like his touch and wagged her tail while she looked at the man with misty eyes.
Massimo noticed that the man took a small case which was attached to the dog’s collar and contained ten euros. In the case the shopkeeper put a small bottle of liquid, which he took from a showcase and a receipt for the ten euros, he then reattached it to the collar and said:
“Here you go, Lisa, now go back home!” he let the dog out, making sure she went in the right direction. He watched her until she turned the corner and then came back into the shop, turning his attention back to Massimo.
“Well, my name is Damien – he said holding out his hand – I was born in Tunisia and I’ve lived in Florence for ten years now, what’s your name?”
“Massimo, and I’m from Florence, it’s a pleasure meeting you! - In that handshake he again felt the same sensation as when he first walked in - I live close by, but I had never noticed this store before.”
“I know, - said Damien while still smiling – a lot of people say the same thing, this store is a little hidden because it’s between two stores which have been closed for a long time and in a small unfrequented street.”
Damien wore a pair of glasses, which he took off when he looked at people in the face and put back on when he had to read or prepare something. His movements were calm, and he gave a sense of irrefutable composure, it almost seemed like he was performing a ritual.
He was a very interesting person, one of those rare old-fashioned shopkeepers, who Massimo immediately took to liking and, somehow, he made him forget that déjà vu he had experienced when he walked in.
Part three (some notions)
Maybe it was due to Damien’s appeal, or to the funny and unusual scene of Lisa bringing the liquid to her friend Marco, but Massimo decided to buy an electronic cigarette, if its cost didn’t exceed the amount he had in his wallet.
Therefore he dug into his pocket, while Damien, already sure that he had acquired a new client, watched him with some interest…
