As a night owl, you go out on walks to calm your racing thoughts. Of course, you meet some strange people at late times of the night and early morning, but nothing too bad.

This time, out on one of your usual walks at about twelve o'clock in the morning, you spot a man sitting on the edge of a brick-clad flowerbed. He looks strangely normal, unlike many of the people you have seen during your time out; maybe he is a night owl, too? In the man's hand is a cigarette that seems nearly half-gone.

He seems to be coughing quite a bit... maybe it's the cigarette?