Jerry choked on the air and gripped his throat. Someone was putting something in his air.

The sound of the air filters, humidifiers, air ionizers and dust treatments all hummed their constant hum. Jerry eyed each one in turn to look at the power lights, to settle the suspicion that the filters were not working. Red lights, blue lights and green lights all flickered softly in the dark room.

Jerry dropped his hand from his throat and cautiously pulled a breath past his quivering lips.

He felt the potentially deadly air fill his mouth and nostrils first and then rush down his throat to inflate his lungs.

He waited and wiped sweat from the bridge of his nose.

When would it happen?

When would his lungs leap up, sieze, and close, to leave him a breathless husk on the floor of his tidy little apartment?

Would it be this breath?

The air sat in his lungs and fed his body.

His lungs quivered from his own anxiety and his heart ached as it pounded fast in his chest. But his lungs did not burn or itch. His lungs did not swell and close. The air did its work and he let the breath go.

He exhaled heavily and jerked his head away from the position where he had released the burned fuel back into the room.

He waved his hand to clear the air and held his breath until it was safe again.

His stomach trembled and his eyes watered. His body begged for air. Jerry glanced over at the air filters, the purifiers, humidifiers, and ionizers. His stomach burned, his lungs deflated and his brain threatened to shut him down.

He couldn’t take his next breath yet. He sucked in a small bit of air and clutched his throat as he choked.

Would this be the breath?

He surveyed the lights on each of the filters.

He opened his mouth and pulled a deep breath in as he looked outside to the world. Down in the streets, dirty cars spewed exhaust. Smoke churned out into the sky from the smokestacks of a factory just across the street. Planes flew in the skies and rained poison to the world. Slight breezes blew to distribute the poison to everyone.

To everyone but him.

Not him. He stayed ready for the pollution, the poison, the death that floated from every pipe and from every mouth. He kept strong against every irritant, microbe or molecule in the air.

He was ready for it. Someone was putting something in his air.

He was taking it out.