You Know When

1. You know the moment just before you take off a smelly shoe? How you’ve already mapped out an exit strategy? And how, once it’s off, you begin the dash out of the hazard zone only to discover through your peripheral that you’ve left your phone on the counter? And you know, then, about that moment of indecision and hesitation where you stop suddenly, and your momentum lifts all your weight onto one leg, your arms extend awkwardly in front of you for balance while your back and neck twist around to look at your miscalculation? How the choice between you’re nose and a phone call from a friend have each settled themselves in two opposing corners of your body, one pushing the other pulling? And you know how you choose your friends, because, well, who wouldn’t, so you take a breath before you take the plunge, but you take it too late, and now you have smelly shoe in your mouth? And you know how you can’t tolerate the old, leathery flavor, so you exhale, and breath through your nose instead, but now you’re breathing in your own bad leathery breath? And you know how you’re breathing heavier because of all the excitement, and you get in more smelly nose-breaths per capita than you would have had you just taken your shoes off, calmly grabbed your phone, and proceeded out the door?

the K.H.