Prison World
A ring of smoke sails into the air, crashing into the wall dispersing in different directions. I sit at my computer, as smoke continues to drizzle from the freshly lit joint. The smell of inflamed cannabis fills my nostrils. Another puff sends me into a coughing fit. The bar to the loading screen inches closer to its destination. The draft takes the smoke out the window. Smoke is such a weird substance. It’s like air… but we can see it! I wonder what smoke looks like in outer space? Since...