I ‘braved’ going out in the midst of a pandemic surge to see an allergist to see why I am having all of these sneezing seizures of late. Like sneezing 6 or 7 times in a row. Not that I am complaining. There is something pleasurable about the buildup to and release of a sneeze (the non-infectious kind). It’s not quite erotic. It’s not quite unerotic.

What a perverse thing to say.

Anyway, once I arrived at the allergist’s office, I realized I had forgotten my hearing aids. I hardly ever wear them. I mean, in quarantine, there really isn’t anything to hear, except for music and TV and podcasts, all hearable with headphones. Otherwise, I can go days and weeks without hearing or speaking a live human voice.

Which makes hearing aids kind of extraneous.

But even if I was wearing them, I don’t think I would have been able to decipher the words spoken by people wearing masks and plastic shields over masks.

So this allergist was very patient with me and all of my questions. She gave me all sorts of great information, none of which I could hear. But I acted as if I could. And maybe I did, on a subconscious level.

And it’s so strange but I have not sneezed, even once, since I left that appointment. Maybe the allergist was invoking some sort of magic, behind the mask and the shield.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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