A Blowout

I went to a birthday party tonight. As I watched the individual blow out the candles, I recalled a remarkable event that occurred one summer. Some poor soul in my student apartments had chickenpox. He looked miserable. He was miserable. He had pox all over his face, he could not shave as a result, he was listless, he had been confined to his apartment for a couple of weeks. And this was all in the heat of summer. Someone learned it was his birthday, amd baked him a cake. I was part of the group that presented the cake to him, complete with lit candles. The cake looked delicious. The young man came out, seemed happy to have some visitors for a change, and notwithstanding that he looked a little worse than death warmed over, mustered enough energy to methodically blow over the entire surface of the cake, succesfully putting out the candles. Cake eating had suddenly lost its appeal, and the visitors were gone . . .