Smoking. It was magical. I didnt cough or splutter like my friends said I would. It was the single most wonderful moment of my life so far. For the first time in my long 15 years on the earth, I was cool.

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Ross Keys 10A                                                                                         Coursework

                             Smoking                                        10/09/2006

Musty, stifling. The two things I vividly remember as I stepped into that gloomy, old corner shop. I wandered round looking at the bright, multi-coloured packets that surrounded me. I heard my D.T. teacher telling me that this was a form of advertising and would draw my attention to the product and, before I knew what was happening I would be buying it. Normally I would head straight for the sweets and would spend what seemed like hours deliberating over which variety of Haribo I would buy. But not that day, that day I would head straight for the counter and get the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world. A packet of cigarettes. I walked right up to the counter and said confidently and in the deepest voice I could manage,

‘Can I err, have a pack of Marlboro lights please.’

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‘Certainly sir’ the reply came.

‘That’ll be four pounds please.’ I handed over the money and left without saying a word. I walked round the corner and into the alleyway and stopped. Taking deep breaths. The alleyway stank of smoke and this place had obviously been used as a place for underage smoking. I opened the packet of cigarettes, took one out, lit it and took a deep puff. It was magical. I didn’t cough or splutter like my friends said I would. It was the single most wonderful moment of my life so far. For the first time in ...

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