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
