Empty or full.

I was sitting on a bench in Cavendish Square catching up with blip and watching the world go racing by, when this bloke came and sat opposite me.

I noticed he kept looking across at me so I roughed him up and sent him on his way. No I didn't. I wondered what made me so interesting. Was it a bit of rough trade or the packet of fags and a box of matches on the bench a foot to my right I'd just noticed. He continued to look over and when he picked up a dog-end and lit it I knew to my relief he was keen on the packet, which for all either of us knew could have been empty.

After ten minutes of him wondering if the cigs were mine and me wanting to offer them to him but feeling I might insult him through misreading the situation, he lost patience and left.

Five minutes later I too left having not checked the packet.