Leaving The Hub
A picture from the night out.
If anyone reading this is asthmatic, you understand the relief of finding the long-lost rescue inhaler during an attack. One hit of Albuterol and all is right with the world.
That describes the evening out at The Hub.
God saw me gasping for air like the proverbial guppy lying next to its fishbowl, wondering, bug-eyed, how the Hell it jumped out. And how the Hell it would get back in.
Hand of God reaches down; flips the cap off the inhaler; and jams it in my mouth.
Ah, relief.
One night out with other sane, non-paranoid, fearless Floridians and I was rolfed back into a happy state. Small “s.”
Ah, Florida.
Please don’t give in.
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