Friend or Foe?

It was in this moment of great perception that an even more critical thought jumped into the bubble with me: Can I breathe in here?

Apparently I could, for now. But how long would my oxygen supply last? More precisely, how long had I been in the bubble? If it had formed at midnight, I would surely already be dead. I assumed the bubble’s generation must have occurred around 4:00am. That would make sense, actually, since that’s about when I awoke to use the bathroom.

I’m a sound sleeper—if my dog could talk, she would probably tell you of my escapades into somnambulism. A trip to the bathroom is never just that, I think. I can’t tell with reasonable accuracy because I’m asleep when it happens. If it happens. But I’m pretty sure it does, on a regular basis.

Oxygen. I had just wasted five minutes thinking about what I did during the night, and I knew I’d never remember it anyway. It was time to confront the dilemma: Would I trust the bubble’s protection or fear its assault? The air was getting thin in here.

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