By Lorry Myers
So far, it had been an ordinary day. Lunch was over so I popped a mint in my mouth as I walked from the parking lot into the building. I typically carry mints in the pocket of my purse for this very reason.
Wintergreen is my favorite.
When I reached the door, the mint was well on its way to making my breath minty fresh. Inside the lobby, I suddenly needed to cough. I turned to the wall and did just that, a hard bark of a cough that led to another and another.
That’s when my day stopped being ordinary.
My chest heaved and all the while I was thinking that I needed to get to the bathroom to cough this out.
If only I could breathe.
But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. By now my hand was clutching my throat and when I raised my head, I saw a mist lurking in my peripheral vision. That’s when I knew.
I was choking, choking to death.
Back when my day was still ordinary, I’d smiled at a woman who was lingering in the lobby as if she was waiting for someone. I could feel her still, behind my back, waiting. So, when the colors in my vision started to fade, when it felt like my chest had turned to stone, I turned to the stranger at the door.
She was waiting for me.
Her papers spilled to the floor when she saw my hands at my throat and in that instant, this stranger made a decision.
“Do you need help?” the woman called.
I reached out my hand and that’s all it took. That super hero leaped over the papers covering the floor and spun me around. I knew what was happening but was past helping myself.
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard
