Distance

Jim is a smoker. He rolls his own cigarettes, using Zig Zag papers and some pouch of tobacco I have never seen long enough to tell the brand on. When I visit him at his house, he either smokes on the front porch or sets up a fan in a window and smokes there, crouched down near the window. Sometimes he looks something like a toad, sitting there by that fan, and when he talks his voice gets crackly from the fan blade being nearby.