Leo’s savior lived in a small, white plastic bottle on his nightstand: the Antihistamine.
Thirty minutes later, the storm began to break. The itching on his forearms faded from a roar to a hum. The constant tickle in the back of his throat vanished. He stepped outside, and though the air was still thick with the green haze of the pines, he could finally breathe. He stood in the middle of the park, a man protected by a microscopic army of molecular placeholders, watching the wind shake the trees without a single sneeze to answer them.
Leo took his pill and waited for the internal stalemate to begin.
