Forrest Gulp

A small white feather floated just above my head.  Suspended by some unseen force, it twisted back and forth in the light pouring through the window.  I was transfixed by its beautiful dance.

I had just taken off my down-filled parka before joining a friend for breakfast.  The feather must have escaped the lining of my coat and was now slowly headed toward the bright morning sun, presumably to join the throng of people on the already bustling streets of Manhattan.

I absentmindedly ordered coffee, but never dropped my gaze from the tiny fairy now hovering over the table. I was vaguely aware that my friend was ordering her meal, but I remained hypnotized by this magical performance.

The winter sun was streaming down across the table and I became drowsy from the warmth.   I was captivated by the feather’s movement, and realized that just the breath from my friend as she ordered her food was slowly propelling it directly toward my face.

As it moved closer, I realized I didn’t want the performance to end, so I decided to blow out a long, slow breath and move it back to center.

So I took a deep breath…

/CHōk/
verb
1.
(of a person or animal) have severe difficulty in breathing because of a constricted or obstructed throat or a lack of air.
“Sandi choked on a mouthful of feather”