He shuffled back to bed, lay on his side, and closed his eyes. The water-stain face on the ceiling seemed less disapproving now. Almost proud.
For a moment, nothing changed.
He lifted the bowl, inhaled the steam, and felt a faint, tantalizing twinge in his right nostril. Then nothing. open blocked nose
His mother had told him about this once, years ago. A weird life hack she’d seen on a morning show. He tore off a small strip of medical tape, stretched it across the bridge of his nose, and pressed gently, pulling the skin outward. He shuffled back to bed, lay on his
Then he remembered the tape.
He lay on his back, mouth-breathing like a beached whale, staring at the water stain on the ceiling that looked vaguely like a disapproving face. The disapproving face seemed to mock him. You should have bought that humidifier, it seemed to say. You should have changed the air filter. You should not have eaten that entire cheese platter at midnight. For a moment, nothing changed
Then, like the first crack of dawn, a tiny stream of air whistled through his left nostril. He inhaled again. More air. His right nostril, the stubborn one, remained a brick wall. But the left—the left was awake .