*Barn Door

Intro: This came from a writing prompt but it is another one that has the influence of my husband in it. Some of you may understand the joke already. My husband enjoys taking other people's cell phones, finding a name (most commonly a Mom) and then texting animal noises to this person. I think my favorite was when he did it to my sister-in-law's mother. She texted back wondering if her daughter was okay. It was quickly explained that it was just my husband. Everything was cleared up with just that piece of information. So, if you ever get random animal noises in a text message it is probably my husband playing with a cell phone somewhere.

I walked into the local witch's shop with red, itchy eyes, and a sore dripping nose. Between sneezes I asked if there was any cure for the ailment that afflicted me every year. Hay fever should be a four letter word or a form of torture. The witch just looked up from the bowl she was mixing and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly expect magic to solve all your problems?"

"Yes, isn't that what it is for?" My light tone vanished into one of despair and anger as another fit of sneezes left me winded and scrambling for a tissue. "Just make me stop sneezing. I hate sneezing. Fix it."

"I can make you stop sneezing, if that is what you really want." She moved to her shelf and came back with a small green pill. "I call this the barn door."

"Because it covers all allergies?"

"Not exactly. Let me know if the sneezing continues. Have a nice day," she said with a smile.

I should have recognized the toothy grin. She only showed her teeth to people who were bothering her. The next day I felt the tightness the building in my nose and just when a normal sneeze was about to happen I let out a bark. The next sneeze was a cluck and the third a cat's meow. These weren't the typical onomatopoeia. It was truly an animal noise. If I went back to Kristen she would just laugh. I only hoped that my allergy medication worked for once and that I wouldn't embarrass myself at work. I honked. Too much, maybe I wouldn't embarrass myself too much.

"This month's reports show that we have a net growth of—"

"Neigh."

Every gaze in the room flashed to me.

"Sorry."

"Of seven percent."

"Roar, squeak, moo."

A few people snickered. The meeting continued with the financial adviser speaking as quickly as he could between my outbursts.

As he said, "To go over our marketing strategy" I managed to sound like an elephant and everyone cheered.

"We will make our product desirable to our clientele by using social media. Since no one has any questions we'll conclude." The financial adviser almost ran to the door with his papers in hand.

I managed a "cock-a-doodle-do" before the door closed. Everyone turned to me and the blood rushed to my face.

"Best meeting we've had in a long time," one coworker said.

The thanks continued and I accepted it through another onslaught of snee-mals. When I was free of the conference room I headed home. The pill wore off the next day. My coworkers expressed their disappointment at the lack of entertainment during the weekly planning meeting, I was content to only disrupt through the sneezes.

After the meeting ended the financial adviser came up to me. "Here, I heard this helps."

He dropped a small green pill into my palm and walked away. I nearly dropped it as I sneezed again.