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?

Morrison: BOTH?

(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.)