Jade couldn’t have known that, in addition to the many other things she now had to count amongst her worries while braving the public space, enduring someone breathe a sigh of frustration right into her face was one of them. This done as she backed herself further into a corner of the metro as another barrage of passengers shoved on. And yet, though Jade had done what she could to make herself as small and unimposing as possible, it clearly wasn’t small and unimposing enough as the hot air—the stank of breath—of a stranger flowed almost directly into Jade’s own mouth. For she had made the mistake of partially opening it in that moment. That second. But, as it is said, one second is all it takes.

And Jade could only hope that in said second, she didn’t contract some sort of disease or illness from this proverbial rando. On the plus side, this rando was a woman, which automatically upped her potential for being cleaner and more hygienic than a man. At the same time, with Jade’s luck, this would be one of those rare instances of a woman being gnarly somehow. For all she knew, the woman was a walking contagion, riddled with syphilis and herpes or some shit. She did have that kind of “old school” way about her. Tan, leathery skin and bright pink lipstick—both aesthetic characteristics in the spirit of Magda from There’s Something About Mary. Except, unlike Magda, Syphilis had stringy, dark blonde hair and the audacity to wear a short bodycon dress that unabashedly paraded all her cellulite.

Yes, the more Jade looked at Syphilis the more she genuinely believed this woman was the type to allow a gang bang, to sleep (or not) at any old dirty ass apartment, so long as it was on offer. By a man or woman. Briefly pausing to process the “severity” of her thoughts, Jade was aware that she was being hyper-caustic and judgmental. But maybe she wouldn’t have been if this woman didn’t just breathe what amounted to dragon breath right in her face (for it had the same “gale-force wind” and probably the same smell).

Then again, Jade would be lying to herself if she couldn’t admit that, frankly, she was always this judgmental. And being stuck on the metro—one not outfitted with any kind of air conditioning—during the peak of the day’s heat was only intensifying her rage-fueled sense of judgment. The truth was, no one should be forced to leave the comfort and safety of their own home on days like these, ripe with all the conditions that could make even the most patient of people go on a shooting spree. And this logic went double for someone like Jade, as prone as she was to homicidal feelings even in the best of circumstances.

However, when circumstances conspired to make everything feel inconvenient, laborious and, worst of all, crowded and cramped, that’s when Jade was even more likely to really lose what little mask of civility she had to begin with. So it was that she didn’t bother in the least to conceal her disgust and contempt in the instant that the “breath attack” happened. A reaction that Syphilis had the gall to be offended by, as if Jade had been the one to breathe onto her face, and close enough to her mouth to spread something.

The fact that Syphilis was about to actually get into it with Jade was only escalating her already boiling blood level. And she knew right from the minute she could sense a conflict was brewing that she was willing to augment it with her own response. She was not the one to be trifled with today. Maybe if it had been another day, one that was not so blistering hot and one that didn’t find her stalled on multiple different metros for no good reason other than “blah blah blah blah” (the conductor’s voice was always unintelligible over the intercom), she could have maintained her cool. However infinitesimal it was to begin with. Today, though, was the wrong day for Syphilis to choose to get up in arms with her after Jade rightly showed her disgust for being breathed on like this. For fuck’s sake, Jade thought, who would be so “breathe-happy” in cramped quarters like this? I don’t care how fucking frustrated you are, keep your fucking sighs to your fucking self so you don’t blow your germs into someone’s fucking face! Fuck!

Jade couldn’t control her racing mind, demanding, What the hell does this bitch have to be so frustrated about anyway? It’s not like she was the one who’s personal space is being invaded right now. Syphilis, clearly picking up on Jade’s “energy” (i.e., overt ire), wanted to do something about it. In truth, was the type to get off on making someone feel even more uncomfortable once she could sense that uncomfortableness. And since she, too, was having the kind of day that made her prone to, let’s say, “random acts of violence,” Syphilis leaned into—literally—the behavior that had caused Jade such annoyance in the first place. Pushing up against her, Syphilis kept breathing heavily in her direction, not even trying to pretend like it was a sigh for this round. And that was it. That was all it took for Jade to unleash. Mimicking Syphilis’ behavior tenfold by breathing even more bombastically, and grunting while doing it.

Everyone around them started to look with uneasy expressions on their faces. They could all sense that whatever was happening between these two women was a ticking time bomb that could go off at any minute if the doors didn’t open and let one of them out soon. Syphilis was blindsided by the reaction to what she had done, becoming genuinely afraid of what Jade might do next. So it was she who backed off by exiting at the next stop, even though she had three more to go. Syphilis decided she would rather wait for the next train than deal with whatever this “psycho bitch” had in store for her.

Unashamed, Jade stood proud in her rabidness as she glared at anyone who dared to so much as look in her general vicinity. Fuck them! Fuck them all! This was the mantra that kept going through her head all the way back home. And it was only once back inside that she could even vaguely start to calm herself down again. Even though that wasn’t entirely possible since she was forced to live with two roommates. But even so, she at least had the ability to sequester herself in her room and “recharge.” Get back to some kind of “baseline point” slightly below all-out fury. And that’s right about the time she could feel something distinct in her throat. A “tickle.” The first sign of some kind of illness. It could be anything, of course. A “tickle” in one’s throat was the nondescript harbinger of many maladies. But it didn’t matter to Jade what it was going to be, the only thing she knew is that she had been right to be vexed and disgusted with Syphilis. That close contact with strangers was always a huge mistake. And yet, it was one that most people living in any major city were expected to endure. Mostly for the sake of making money.

That was the day Jade decided she would never ride public transportation again. It was too foul, too pernicious. And besides, why was the onus always put on non-rich people to engage in activities that were meant to “save the planet”? Which couldn’t be saved, evidently. Had gotten so hot that it was literally burning up. Much like Jade’s forehead for the rest of the day and in the coming week, during which she called out sick. Loss of cash be damned (for her job only “allowed” four sick days a year, as if that was somehow “reasonable”).

And she knew she would be losing even more when she informed her employer that she could no longer commute to work—that this was going to be a dealbreaker for her. Not that she would have to worry about that confrontation in the end. Because whatever Syphilis had breathed into Jade’s body managed to slowly kill her in the next week and a half. Rather than seeing her life flash before her eyes, all she could think about during that protracted death was how she wished she had at least punched Syphilis. Repeatedly. But no, Syphilis was still out there, on the loose. Breathing into people’s faces. Like so many others on the metro. Alas, one person’s “free breathing” can ultimately signal the final breath of another.