I was just outside, having the last smoke of the night (It’s 2AM over here) on the porch, when a torrent of pent-up rainwater started falling from the veranda over me. Time slowed down noticeably, and I could see the slow shower climbing up my outstretched legs - towards my last cigarette! In the very last second, I flung my arm out sideways and saved the cig by a few centimetres.
In my head, the only thought for the next few seconds was “You can have my pants, but you will never have my cigarette!”
So, what literary-style thoughts have you had, recently? You know, one of those you think should have been written down somewhere.
Of course, I’m going to have to remember the line for when my viciously anti-smoking girlfriend comes back to town.