I stopped walking to figure it out, which was probably a bad idea because I remembered just then that I was leaving a building with a lion in it. The lion came into the restaurant where I was having lunch, and everyone left. I must have grabbed those things on my way out, panicked, and forgotten.
I couldn't even figure out what they were, those things I'd picked up. They were sharp and gadgety. Maybe some lizard brain part of me decided it'd be good to have a weapon.
Ultimately, we're all trapped inside our own brains. Adrenalin sure messes with your head.
What did I have in my hands?
And how did that lion get there?