Shallow Breathing

I am sitting by the window in a 3 seater on the 7.35 to the City. It is a beautiful day. One of those crispy autumn mornings that I love so much. I am a bit tired as it is the Monday morning after a rather busy weekend. I decide to hide behind my sunglasses and have a bit of a snooze whilst Cityrail whisks me into the Sydney CBD for another day at the grindstone.
I snuggle down into the seat and lean into the window, shut my eyes and start to allow the hypnptotising effect of the warm sun coming through the window, the rocking motion and the sound of the wheels on the tracks to pull me into a deep sleep.
I am only just aware of the train pulling to a stop at the next station and the dead weight of a 200k body dropping from a great height into the seat alongside of me.
"That's cool" I think, as I am rocked from side to side in the manner of a leaf in a pool suddenly disturbed by a child throwing a large rock into it. I keep my eyes shut and prepare to be lulled into nirvana.
Hmmmm, what is that smell? Some grub has farted. I keep my eyes shut and concentrate on oblivion but this stench keeps dragging me back, it's sort of rythmic - smell - no smell - smell - no smell. I open my eyes, there is a young man sitting next to me on the isle. He looks my way and as our optics meet I am assailed by a waft of such rancidity from him that it takes my breath away and I'm wrong, it is not his back end that the smell is coming from. I look away and quickly bury my nose into my hand. Oh my God!! It's on my tastebuds it's that foul, my hand isn't running interference either, this is one serious smell, it's creeping through the cracks in my fingers. I'm suffocating, I open the window in a panic trying not to gulp too much air or I'll be sick. The lady behind me makes a comment to her fellow traveller about the arseholes that open windows on cold mornings, if I could only take enough breath to tell her to rack off. I settle for a quick scathing look. I aint closing my only ventilation port let me tell you!
I text my friends to let them know that I'm sitting next to someone who's breath smells like they have shit themselves just in case I die from asphyxiation. I dont want my autopsy to be inconclusive. I'm starting to panic, I can feel my chest constricting, can you die from being at the front end of a halitosis sufferer? I dont get that anyway - they dont suffer - we do!!! I look at the scenery out of the window to try to reclaim my calm state. I have a revelation for you!! It is impossible meditate if you cant deep breathe.
By now the train is filling up and as each passenger sees the seat next to me they come down the isle and stop to ask him to let them in. But as they do they cop a whiff and recoil in revulsion. They move away and I'm alone, trapped.
I sneak a look at my assailant, THE BASTARD IS ASLEEP!!!!! And horror of horrors he is a mouth breather. I cant take it any more, I am 1 stop away from Central Station, the train is packed. I take a deep breath, I stand, I gather my belongings, I kick him awake, squeeze past his legs and with lungs bursting I reel to the stairs and make it to the door just as it opens at Green Square.
I fall to my knees on the platform sucking in the sweet carbon monoxide laden fumes, my lungs working like a blacksmiths bellows. I look through watering eyes as the train pulls away from the station and see 'road kill' (as I'm sure his acquaintances call him) moving to the window as another victim sits down. My last thought as the train disappeared was' I hope that open window blows his stinking breath back on that bitch behind me'.