Write about: the compulsion.
Spent some time today hauling potatoes out of the garden. Still lots left out there but hopefully we'll have them all in storage by the end of the week.
We've been pretty lucky with weather this October, with nights staying above freezing and pleasantly warm days. Don't want to count on that continuing though.
"You've done it again... I can't believe it."
"What are you talking about?"
"I can smell it on you from here, darling. You just can't help yourself, can you?"
"No, no, no. You've got it all wrong, love. It's just on my clothes, I wasn't doing it. The boys were having a smoke after work and I hung around to chat and -"
"You honestly expect me to believe that? You couldn't have come up with something a little more plausible? You're sinking to new lows."
"Ask Roger! Ask Terence! No cigarette touched these lips, I swear it!"
"You're dragging those two down with you? What, are you buying their packs in return for them covering your sorry behind?"
"That's uncalled for. I haven't smoked in two months and have no intention of ever doing so again."
"I can only shake my head... and wonder aloud how, if that were actually true, you've managed to turn your fingernails yellow."