Standing on a corner, she pulled out a cigarette, held it with her lips, put her lighter up to it with her right hand, and cupped her left hand over it against the wind. It clicked and clicked, but the cigarette did not light. In a movie or a television series, she would have begun to tremble, the frustration of failing to light her own cigarette exacerbating whatever frustruation she was experiencing in the plot. But she remained as calm as a villain who never has problems lighting a cigarette while explaining the situation to the hero. When she finally lit the cigarette, whoever had been watching her was already gone. (Andrew Shields, #111Words, 13 April 2026)