We all know the classic battle between a nose and a feather, but have you ever taken the time to stop and smell the roses (pun intended) when it comes to it?
The anticipation the nose feels just knowing the feather is near, how every nerve buzzes with a subtle itch
The feeling of the first touch, the moment the nose and the feather touch. How it feels, pleasant, at first. Every part of the feather caressing the nose. And suddenly the touch feels like so much more.
Even though the feather only trails the outside, the nose scrunches, hoping to push off the touch. The touch is so light, it no longer is a touch. It’s a tickle. And as the feather moves to the widened openings of the nose, the tickle spreads up and into the nose.
The feather dances around the nostrils, moving with the flares and the squirming of the nose. The tickle now sends waves of warning. Warning that this beautiful delicate object isn’t as innocent as it seems.
And the warning finds meaning as the feather invites itself into the damp opening, swirling and familiarizing itself with the layout. The clear trail of liquid escaping the nose also begins to make the feather stick to itself as the warm breath picks up, pulling the feather in and out.
But the tickle isn’t enough to make the feather leave. It has only begun its exploration of every crevasse and curve inside the nose. And it is almost like it is being welcomed inside with how wide the nose is making itself for the feather.
But soon, the feather takes note of how wet the area has become, how the breaths have lost their rhythm and become even bigger, and it understands that it may not be wanted right now. So it takes its leave, brushing against the interior as it does so.
But the damage is done. The nose has reached its limit. And now it rids itself of the tickle, expelling all the mess that the feather made with it.
