The Lungs of an Asthmatic

I step outside to take a breath of fresh air, but I am met with my greatest foe: the cold.  The gusty wind pushes its way into my mouth and down my airways like it is running a marathon.  It crosses the finish line right inside each struggling air sac and it makes everything freeze over like a Zamboni on a pond.  Breathing in takes more effort than a triathlon, and breathing out feels like drowning during the swimming person.  This burning sensation refuses to escape my lungs.  I grab the only superhero that can save the day.  I marvel in her cool, blue exterior and shiny metal cap before I press down on her head and force her to release a sweet, artificial air that allows my lungs to melt out of their terrible freeze.