The Fume

It was Saturday night. I was finishing up some work. From the window in drifted chatters of people on a pathetic patch of lawn at the back of the building six floors below. Along with that was a pungent smell of some sort. Possibly cigar or maybe weed, but I've never been around people openly smoking weed to know for sure. (What rock have you been living under? Well, the one the hubby has been living under, because he doesn't know either.) After a while the stink was irritating enough to drive us to closing the window. Then I developed a pain in the back of my head. No a hint of high. 

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The research is going in the direction that one day we can look in a person's nucleus accumbens and know whether he will become addicted to something or not upon using it. People will then be able to make a fairly reliable decision whether to experiment with something or not.