What happened ten minutes ago?

Cravings feel like weather. They roll in without warning, you get soaked, and afterward you decide some days are just like that. It's a comfortable story. It's also wrong. What you're up against runs more like a bus timetable. Same few stops, same times, over and over. You've just never seen the schedule.

The cigarette liked it that way. It hid its whole schedule inside days that felt random. A craving you can't predict feels endless. A craving you can predict is a bus you can see coming down the street. And you don't have to get on a bus just because it stopped.

Take out your phone and snap one photo of whatever's in front of you. The empty plate. The couch. The email still open on the screen. Your phone stamps the time for you. Then look at it and ask one question. What happened ten minutes ago? A camera has no reason to protect the habit.

Keep snapping, even on days you smoke. Especially then. Scroll back after a week and you'll find a handful of moments, not a whole hostile day. A handful you can plan for. Ask God to show you the stops. He's seen the whole route from the start. This craving just got its picture taken, and you're still on the curb. Once you know the timetable, you get to miss every bus on purpose.