Ectoplasmic

Enjoyably relaxing night with my cousin. We watched another very good film, Joe (unusually understated performance form Cage). Next morning we sat, talking and making phone calls in his cosy, sun-and-smoke-flooded sittingroom. Looking at this portrait I took makes me almost want to cough, though I didn't feel the urge while I sat there beside him. Smokers don't bother me at all; never have. I used to be a committed smoker myself, and would be still if I wasn't such a craven hypochondriac. Cowardice has its uses, but ah, the pleasure of a good drag, the ectoplasmic, indoor cloud-ceiling.