Forcing myself to breathe.
SMOKE BY JOSHUA FOUST 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 71
I used to ride my bike to the Safeway to buy food for dinner. It was a practical thing, you know? It was green, or whatever. But not any more. I’d think about it on the bus, forcing myself to breathe through a surgical mask. Riding to the Safeway I would stand up from the seat, pushing my feet down on the pedals revelling in the power of my body. But that joy is gone now. And I don’t know that I’ll ever get it back again.