So he turned away and held his breath for as long as he could. And that wasn’t very long. It’s never easy to hold your breath and count the seconds at the same time. He began counting the seconds instead, and tried to breathe easy. But it’s never easy to breathe easy when you are trying to hold your eyes tight shut.

Count backwards. That works sometimes. It distracts you from how hard you have to try. But it’s hard to be distracted when you’re not letting yourself blink. It’s not easy being accustomed to doing one thing at a time. Especially if you become accustomed to doing it well. For starters, you can’t look for something while you’re being anxious about not finding it. And you cannot really be anxious either. Not very well, anyway.

So he began to not look for it. And he began to think he was going to come through, for once. It was after all, the only thing he was trying to accomplish. For a second, he thought he didn’t see anything. But a passing headlamp drenched it in godforsaken light and he caught sight of it. Just as darkness regained its composure, in comical slow motion. Damn French window. Why could he not have been staring at a wall instead? Now he’ll never know if it really wasn’t there. Now he can’t be sure that he was making the whole thing up.

-Ugly