AperçuAutobiography

The Cough

By March 28, 2020 April 16th, 2020 No Comments

Standing six feet from the neigh­bor­hood phar­macy counter. Sup­presses imme­diate urge to cough. Sweet Jesus, why now? Holy Mary, Mother of God, I’ll take back all the papalist jokes, I swear. 🤞 It’s always the most inop­por­tune time!?

FFS, pre­serve me in this my hour of tribu­la­tion!

Minute cap­il­lary ves­sels begin to explode in the eyes, the neural cir­cuitry sparks and sput­ters, the heart skips a beat, the cough scratches across the throat with all the menace of a serial killer stalking his prey… Heart and nerve and sinew begin to implode, the vacuum of an emer­gent sin­gu­larity pulls at the fibers of your soul, a shudder rip­ples through your sub­atomic matrix threat­ening dis­so­lu­tion…

The pre­scrip­tion is shuf­fled across the counter. The card is shoved into the slot. You nod, tears forming. And slowly, with all the dig­nity you can muster, leave the premises.

And then your face explodes in an expec­to­rating fit of ocular orb-bulging vio­lence. And so it is, this tale of Coro­natide and the new­found need to throttle invol­un­tary reflexes like a thug in a dark alley.

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