It starts as a tickle at the back of your throat.
A little uncomfortable at first, but then it reaches the point where you must take some action. A sort of cough with your mouth closed. Not a full cough. Kind of under the covers and almost subconscious.
That works the first time, and the tension fades. Nobody really noticed. But it builds again, and you’ll have to deal with it again. Maybe that little throat-clearing works a few more times, and you’re still flying under the radar. The person next to you might be the only one who noticed. Maybe a little glance.
You know what’s coming, though.
Eventually, that little closed-mouth throat-clear doesn’t relieve the tension. You try to hold it off. A few more closed-mouth throat-clears, but the feeling builds. Maybe another person or two gives you the sideways glance.
You’re swallowing. Eyes are watering. Trying to do anything you can to relieve it.
But you have no choice. The existential reality requires you to succumb.
You must cough. Full-throated and probably a few times in a row. You can’t hide it anymore. You’re gonna make a ruckus.
Now they all know.
You’ve startled some. Annoyed some others. Some may be a little fearful.
But one other or, if you’re lucky, a few others think to themselves, “Thank God!” Because they too feel the same tickle. They, too, have been struggling to keep it under wraps, thinking to themselves, “can I get through this without anybody else knowing?”
Now they, too, can cough. You gave them permission to make their presence known. Relieve the tension that’s building in the back of their throat. So they do.
And now you’re a movement. Sometimes it just takes one.
Maybe that one is you.
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