Oh I don't know... maybe we could be in the same room when the building suddenly collapses in on itself, there's no way out and the air is dusty. I ask you if you're okay and you yell out "what do you fucking think?", I'm not actually sure, I guess you're fine. Yeah I'm fine too, thanks for asking.

After 30 minutes or so of watching you haplessly try to get signal on your mobile I ask your name, we discover the reasons that led us into the building today. A few hours pass and we don't even know what we're taking about any more, you tell me about how you wished you'd made more contact with your family over the past few months, I tell you there's still plenty of time for that. You smile, not convinced.

Rubble shifts as light smacks the walls behind us, help arrived. We emerge out onto a chaotic street, being ushered toward bright flashing lights. Hundreds of people look on at the building that is no more, wondering how anyone could have survived. I stop for a moment to get a pen and paper from a nearby officer, I scribble something down and hand it to you, "when you're done calling the family". We're sent our different ways, never to see each other again.

A few weeks go by and you're getting ready to go out, you shift some clothes about in the cupboard as a familiar piece of paper drops onto the floor, you pick it up, unfold it. It's my mobile number.

Or...we could, y'know, pub?