My first thought is always the worst one. And if it’s not, then I quickly find it from there.
Like that fire we saw on our early morning walk. We could see black smoke billowing in the distance and wondered aloud to my husband if we should call the fire brigade. His first thought is like the exact opposite of mine, which borders on guileless denial.
H: Someone’s just burning off.
Me: Now? It’s barely dawn!
H: It’s very still. Maybe conditions are optimal.
Me: I think we should call someone-
As soon as I’d said it, we could hear sirens. Then we started to hear the odd bang as combustibles caught alight.
Me: Oh! I think it’s a house.
H: You can’t possibly know that from here.
Me: But what if it is? What if it was arson? What if the person who started the fire had driven past us and our conversation had prevented us from noticing them and then they went on to commit another crime?
Not that I said that last bit aloud. He would have given me that face.
Meanwhile. I’m memorising car plates.