fire

When you've forgotten your lighter and haven't had a cigarette yet though it's after noon and you're hunting for a smoker, prowling for a stranger putting a thin white stick to their lips to bum a flame from but there are none, nose in the air for a hint of acrid burnt tobacco but there is none,

and suddenly there's a full fresh book of matches on the concrete right in front of you,

you feel like everything's going to be okay.