They both saw the smoke at the same. They stopped, looked at each other and simultaneously dived into their respective bags.
“Mine’s a bit old fashioned but it still does the job” he said as he took aim and started snapping on a much-loved film camera.
Three minutes later the toxic tower had burnt itself out and they went their separate ways.
That evening J was still feeling lousy, she could still smell the acrid smoke. “I wonder if the other bloke feels as crook I do”, she thought to herself, “I hope he got a better picture than me”.