Johnny looked down at his fingers, in a state which Johnny imagined to be anguish, at the end of his stubby roots he found, after several days happily without, a cigarette.
He had resisted, his friends had told him 'no!' But didn't they know Johnny often did the opposite of what people said?
But that was beside the point, Johnny had been enjoying himself, enjoying his company, the conversation, the evening, yet the ingenious nature of his former prison dragged him back for (is any pun ever truly not intended?) a few drags.
For the sake of memories, knowing full well the minor mental torture he may endure in the morning.
He'd tried the four d's: delay, deep breaths, drink water (okay, beer), and do something else.
Hopefully it had worked to the extent that he wouldn't have locked the door behind him this time?