Me, to Morrison: does it seem like Joe is breathing weird?
Morrison: Weird Like, how?
Me: I don’t know, like, fast?
(Meanwhile, Joe Breathes. We watch, obsessively.)
Morrison: I can’t tell. Lemmee see.
(He puts his face super close to Joe’s. Joe, Meanwhile, Breathes.)
Me: See? It’s sort of fast.
Morrison: I mean, yeah, kinda.
(Morrison gets out his phone. Sets a timer, starts to count how many times Joe breathes in a minute. Meanwhile, Joe Breathes. Also meanwhile, neither of us Breathe while we count how many times he is Breathing.)
Morrison: That seems pretty normal to me. I mean maybe kind of fast? But I guess a normal amount of breathing?
Me: ARE YOU SURE?
Morrison: I mean, yeah, I see what you mean, it is a bit fast, but it’s probably fine?
Me: BUT IS IT FINE?
Morrison: I don’t know.
Me: AMBULANCE OR INTERNET?
(Meanwhile, Joe Breathes, normally, steadily, healthily, always breathing, lungs laughing at and with us, and it is in fact, us, always us, who needs to Breathe.)