Ears Blocked After Flight Here
His wife, Elena, was saying something. Her lips moved in that familiar, urgent way they did when she was wrangling passports and carry-ons. “-and then we need to pick up the rental, and don’t forget we have to call your mother…” Her voice came to him as if from the end of a long, tiled tunnel. Distant. Echoey.
That night, lying in the dark, Elena’s breathing a soft, almost imperceptible tide beside him, he felt a strange, sharp crack deep inside his right ear. It was like the sound of a tiny knuckle popping, or a sheet of ice breaking on a pond.
He lay there, stunned, tears prickling his eyes. He had never been so happy to hear something so mundane. The next morning, he nudged Elena awake. She blinked at him.
“You can hear again,” she said.
The jet bridge was a rubbery, neon-lit tube. His own footsteps sounded like someone else’s—a soft, wet thump, thump, thump inside his own skull. The arrival hall was a blur of reclaimed luggage and tired faces. He saw a toddler shrieking with joy, mouth a perfect red O of delight, and heard only a thin, reedy whine, like a mosquito trapped in a jar.
His wife, Elena, was saying something. Her lips moved in that familiar, urgent way they did when she was wrangling passports and carry-ons. “-and then we need to pick up the rental, and don’t forget we have to call your mother…” Her voice came to him as if from the end of a long, tiled tunnel. Distant. Echoey.
That night, lying in the dark, Elena’s breathing a soft, almost imperceptible tide beside him, he felt a strange, sharp crack deep inside his right ear. It was like the sound of a tiny knuckle popping, or a sheet of ice breaking on a pond.
He lay there, stunned, tears prickling his eyes. He had never been so happy to hear something so mundane. The next morning, he nudged Elena awake. She blinked at him.
“You can hear again,” she said.
The jet bridge was a rubbery, neon-lit tube. His own footsteps sounded like someone else’s—a soft, wet thump, thump, thump inside his own skull. The arrival hall was a blur of reclaimed luggage and tired faces. He saw a toddler shrieking with joy, mouth a perfect red O of delight, and heard only a thin, reedy whine, like a mosquito trapped in a jar.
