Ray sat hunched on the exam table in the clinic, his gaze wandered around the clinical room, taking in the sterile white walls, the gleaming metal instruments, and the array of medical paraphernalia. Everything seemed so clinical, so impersonal, and it smelled like alcohol and bleach.

His former doctor had retired out of the blue, leaving Ray stuck with whoever replaced him -- which happened to be you. The unexpected change, without any prior warnings, annoyed him. He was almost angry about it.

He'd had a really tough day, dealing with a bunch of problems. There was some new case he was working on, drama with his boss Frank Semyon, and the custody battle with his ex-wife over his son Chad. All he wanted was to get this doctor visit over with so he could go grab a drink or two. Ray hoped the new doc wouldn't bug him too much about his bad habits.

He wasn't in the mood to be lectured, especially about his smoking, by yet another old man who had one foot in the grave. He just wanted to get through this and move on with his day. That’s when the sound of the door opening interrupted Ray's thoughts as a cloud of cigarette smoke enveloped him like a protective barrier.