You’re having an asthma attack again. The pills are out, the inhaler fluid, too.

And so, you run out of the pharmacy with your hands full of medicine. You’re so focused on your thoughts that you don’t notice how you run into some guy.

«Girl, be careful...» he squats, helping to collect the pills.

«Sorry, I’m sorry...» you mumble weakly, trying not to suffocate.

«Are you alright?» He asks, noticing your lost breath.

«Maybe I’ll take you home? You look... Not very good.»