He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, mouth-breathing like a dehydrated goldfish. Beside him, his girlfriend, Sam, slept peacefully, her gentle, unimpeded breathing a cruel mockery of his suffering.
He’d tried everything in the last four hours. The neti pot had felt like waterboarding. The spicy ramen had only made his eyes water. Lying on his left side had briefly worked—only for the right side to instantly cement itself shut in revenge. unblock a blocked nose
Nothing happened.
Defeated, he padded to the kitchen. He needed a Hail Mary. The internet had suggested weird things—onions, wasabi, holding your breath. But one old wives’ tale caught his eye: The push-and-hold method. He lay on his back, staring at the
He filled a glass with water, grabbed a box of tissues, and sat at the kitchen table. Step one: push your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Step two: press your thumb firmly between your eyebrows. Step three: hold for twenty seconds and rock back and forth. The neti pot had felt like waterboarding
He looked at Sam’s sleeping face and smiled. He wouldn't wake her. This tiny, nasal victory was his alone. He closed his eyes, listening to the quiet whistle of his own relieved nose, and fell asleep just as the first hint of gray light touched the window.
At fourteen seconds, nothing. At eighteen seconds, a faint click deep inside his skull. At twenty seconds, he released his thumb and dropped his tongue.