He found a pharmacy. A bored woman with bright pink hair pointed at a shelf. He bought decongestant spray and a packet of pseudoephedrine, the kind you had to sign for. Back in the hotel, he tilted his head back, sprayed the bitter mist into each nostril, and swallowed the pills. He waited. Nothing.
She sighed, a puff of air he felt rather than heard. “Never mind.” ears blocked after flight
He nodded, listening to the simple, miraculous music of her words. The world was no longer a mime. It was a symphony, and he would never take a single note for granted again.