Nothing worked. The nostril remained a brick wall of mucus and misery.

Here is a story about Arthur’s desperate quest for a clear airway. Arthur Pringle was a man of simple pleasures, but tonight, his world had shrunk to the size of a single, stubbornly blocked left nostril. It was 3:00 AM, and the "whistle"—a high-pitched, rhythmic wheeze every time he breathed—was loud enough to wake the cat. He tried the

The end.

Her grandmother didn’t miss a beat. “Ah. The right one. Stubborn. You’ve tried the sprays and the steam?”