the taste of mentholated cigarettes in addition to the taste of mucus always reminds me distinctly of the period of time when my mother passed away. And the dim lighting, leaking all around the softly positioned bodies in my room. Some brought me coffee, some brought me ice cream, they all brought me more comfort that I could possibly describe in my state of shock, though I kept mostly silent. Smoking my menthols, because my body ached with such a nasty cold.. And I only smoke menthol's when I'm sick.

Something about the particles of the mentholated variety and how they help hold mucus in place, which is bad. But feels better than coughing it up on every draw.