Ears: Stuffy From Cold

Leo's lower lip trembled. He didn't understand sickness or Eustachian tubes. He only understood that his dad, his audience, his playmate, was unreachable. He clutched the rocket ship to his chest and ran from the room.

Alex saw the flash of red construction paper. He saw the enthusiastic, slightly crooked drawing of a triangle with fire coming out the bottom. He saw his son's proud, expectant face. But the boy's voice was a tiny, faraway squeak, like a mouse on a microphone.

She turned in his arms, her face full of sympathy. She brought her hands up, framing his face, her thumbs tracing the circles under his eyes. Then, she leaned in, her lips almost touching his ear, and spoke. Slowly. Deliberately. Each word a carefully launched life raft across the muffled sea. ears stuffy from cold

The rest of the world was a distant radio station playing on the wrong frequency.

Sarah sighed, a soft hiss he felt more than heard. She pointed to the tea, then mimed drinking, then placed a hand on his forehead. Her touch was cool and wonderful. He leaned into it, desperate for a connection that didn't require translation. Leo's lower lip trembled

He looked at himself in the steamy mirror. His eyes were glassy, his nose red, his expression one of profound, frustrated loneliness. He was right here, in the heart of his home, surrounded by the people he loved most, and he was marooned on an island of silence.

But the worst part, the most isolating part, was his ears. He clutched the rocket ship to his chest

"I can't hear you, Leo," Alex said, the admission a physical blow. He pointed to his ear. "Daddy's ears are broken."