Sometimes it just hit you. Like a bullet through the chest. And with such force it swept you off your feet. Some might call it love. And Others? Well you'd just have to follow the trails of smoke to find out.

It was in the air. Floating on the crisp breeze. If you had the nose for it, then it was clear as crystal. And before it hit your lungs, it did have crystals. God's Breath. That was what they were calling it. And for good reason. But to sample a taste you'd have to find it first.

"You'll find it off the streets and at the end of a long day." He joked as he sucked on a lucky strikes cigarette. His popped up collar and baggy light grey cap couldn't hide his smile. The cheeky prick. Yet you got the hint and kept moving. It obviously wasn't on this street.

You could hear him over your shoulder as you paced further away. "Find God and you'll find what fills his lungs." He bellowed at you. His cough was the last of him you heard before you turned the corner.

"Watch it!" A pedestrian scoffed at you after a shoulder bump. If only he knew who the fuck you were. Giving his face a closer inspection of the bottom of your shoes could help with that, but you were on a mission and reluctantly decided against it.

After walking backwards a few steps to stare the shmuck down because your eyes told a story all of their own, you turned around and noticed a similar looking man to the one around the previous corner. Long dark woolen coat and a grey cap pulled down over his face so as to hide his identify. He was over the street so you stepped toward the curb.

A car horn blared as a puddle jumped up off the paved brick road and made itself welcome on your shoes. You flipped off the metal box with wheels as it continued to speed away. An air kick followed. You weren't practicing some new kung fu moves. Or were you? Some of the mud flicked off of one of the better pairs you owned. The stain though, that stayed.

More cars passed in both directions before you found a gap to cross the street. It was a little busy, so quickly legging it was your best choice. A small hop and you were up on the sidewalk and practically in bitch slapping distance of the look-a-like. You swore it was the same guy. Before you could say anything he spoke.

"Off the beaten track and under the light of the stars." He said with his body squared up, directly facing you. This alone got your attention. And then he removed a packet of lucky strikes cigarettes. What. The. Shit. You almost forgot what you were looking for until he lit one of the tobacco sticks and took a puff.

"Just look. Just open your mind and you'll find it." He threw out between an inhale and an exhale. Who the fuck was this guy, you mused. But not for long. You realised he also wasn't the one and so you kept making tracks. As before, you did a little of the backward shuffle and kept a steady eye on him. They have to be twi...

And it hit you like a slap upside the head. Literally. You walked backwards into a pole and copped a nice fuck you from an inanimate object. Immediately you turned, hoping it to be something more sinister you could beat your frustrations into. Nope. A fuckin' pole.

You scrunched up your face and reached to where a lump had already joined the party. If you weren't annoyed before, now might be applicable. You raised your chin in the air and searched upwards in a hopeful silent plea to the heavens as you rubbed your noggin.

And there it was. A sign from above. Really, at the top of the pole. A sign that was letting you know what alleyway you are currently at the mouth of. It was now obvious. It clicked. As the clouds parted and the moonlight shone down, you squinted as you made sure you were reading it right. 'Long Day Lane'.

Now the bump didn't seem as important. You continued on and walked in the direction the sign was pointing, down the laneway. As you got deeper in, the sounds of cars, people and the general street happenings started to fade. The background noise became more and more distant the further down you journeyed.

You felt embraced by the silence you were experiencing. Your footsteps then began to echo off the walls and became a steady beat to your rhythmic movements. It wasn't until you turned left, around and down the bend, that you saw any form of life. Bright flashing lights.

A business of some sort had cut itself a cosy little slice. You could even call it heaven. Because they were. The letters on the flashing yellow neon came together to spell the words 'Heaven's Veil'. As you watched a small group of people dressed in strikingly similar attire, smoking what you imagined to be the same branded smokes, it dawned upon on you.

As you approached one of the dealers, you realized that you had ventured off the streets and were at the end of long day. You were off the beaten track and under the light of the stars; under Heaven's Veil. You realized with certainty that you had finally arrived.

The emptyness turned into resounding laughter and the cool breeze brought with it the smell of what it was you were here to sample. God's Breath. The newest strain of marijuana to come out of Chicago.

"If you can answer me this one question, you'll have as much of God's Breath as you can handle." The familiar looking smile said whilst standing in front of a large door.

"Who are you?" He asked you inquisitively.

"Who are you?" You stopped and thought about the question.

Sometimes your mind wandered and you went into a deep riddle of thoughts. It was like trying to make your way out of a maze but much more in depth than that. You knew the question, you've heard it before. It didn't stop you thinking about it.

It was a pole; it was your head; it wasn't anything, it was a lucky strike cigarette. Damned if you knew exactly what it was but still it didn't stop you thinking. 

A memory from your past came rushing into your head, you were on a swing talking to your best friend as a child. You had asked her "What did you have to eat today?" she replied "not much".

It was your wedding day and your wife asked you "Where would you like to go for our honeymoon?" you replied "anywhere as long as it is with you".

That time the deal went sour so you started smoking crack cocaine it made you feel numb. It took a long time to get yourself away from that bad part of your life. 

You said to dealer that had asked you the question "who am I?".

That day your best friend and wife died in your arms and the way it made you feel...

"I'm no-one, I am nothing."

Your head glanced to the clouds looking for something that wasn't there...

Capazzo stood there listening to his good friend rant and speak in tongues. What the hell was he talking about? Was he drunk again? No, this Seraph was more calculating, although Capazzo didn't understand what he was saying there was stop an aura of intelligence. Capazzo listened in closer and like a truck hitting into him the possible answer came to him.

This was indeed something that was a part of our streets. It was something Capazzo dealt with on a daily basis. Possibly a death warrant to some but a cash cow to Capazzo and other mobsters around this shore.

This thing? Meth and thousands of customers otherwise known as methheads.

Wrench stared at the mans lips, reading his every thought provoking word as it sent a thrilling sensation throughout his body. The painful lump on his head stopped aching, his frustration towards the pedestrians earlier, gone. His senses almost sharpen to the point he could almost hear sound again. It finally made sense to him why he felt so off-key with reality, why the burning passion to follow the trail of smoke. It wasn't just a good time he was craving for. It was bigger than that, yet he wasn't quite sure how to express it. 

Moments passed, of which felt like an eternity and Wrench raised his head to make eye contact with the man. The same moment he lifts his arms to tell the man the answer, he let everything go, freed his mind, his emotion, his past, his future, and gesticulated the most present thing that felt natural to him. 

"I am God's lost child, yearning for enlightenment". He motioned in a more slower hand speed than he is usually used to. 

Capazzo listens in as others give a shot at the riddle but no one can get it. Seraph has surely stumped everyone. Capazzo stands there and wondes and contemplates on if he should give it another try. He knows he is smart, hell even brilliant but why does this particular thing shoot straight over his head. He can't get it. What can it possibly be. 

He waits and waits. Then there is nothing. No one else is coming out and sharing their thoughts. Seraph eventually grows tired of waiting as well and begins to walk away. Just as he does, he walks up to Capazzo and leans over.

Capazzo laughs and shook his head. Seraph finally whispers the answer to him. How could the answer have been THAT simple, right under his nose. Unreal.

Capazzo laughs one last time as he begins to head to his next pick up spot.