I had a dream a couple of years ago that I smoked. It was a very vivid dream, and I felt really quite guilty when I woke up. Although I have never smoked in my life, nor have I ever had any desire to, I knew exactly what it felt like to inhale, to have the nicotine enter my bloodstream and head for my brain. For several days afterwards, I really wanted a cigarette. It was really quite disturbing.
The dream came back on Friday night. It wasn’t as vivid, but I spent Saturday reliving, over and over, that feeling of smoking. It took a while to convince myself that, despite my guilty conscience, that I had never, ever smoked.
Never let it be said that I don’t have a remarkably vivid imagination.