By the evening of the sixth day, we were already on the summit of Kilimanjaro, the tallest mountain in Africa. We could feel the cold wind of the evening filling our nostrils, whistling past our ears. The whole country stressed before us like well-ironed garments.
"We made it, at last," Sir Anthony cried, his furrowy face beaming with smile. "Throw me the damned lighter, I wanna smoke." He waved at Dan.
At once, Dan threw the lighter into the air, towards Sir Anthony. But as Sir Anthony reached for the soaring lighter, he tripped and fell flat on his face, the cigarettes in his pocket littering the floor.
The man and the cigarettes never climbed down the mountain.
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