Denizens of Earth, meet a fragment of my body – my nostril hair. His name is Zed and his life motto is “just do it”.

Now most of you would ask, do what? Well, for him, he did things that none of you people are willing to do. He helps me filter out harmful particles inside my nose, preventing them from entering my lungs and screws everything up.

Being as productive as they inherently made to be, they also always take the trouble to collect them nasty dust particles together, and conveniently sticking wads of them at the wall inside my nostrils for me to collect and dispose everyday. (Zed happens to work inside my left nostril).

If it wasn’t for his (and his colleagues’) goodwill, I would have breathed in heaps of foreign materials into my system and I probably wouldn’t be sitting here still breathing today. He and his diligent group of colleagues, are not only my valuable employees, but also are my symbiotic friends. Fate seems to have arranged for us to synergize together as an integration of efficient mass, trudging through the hostile world dispatching fear, like a porcupine and its quills, a bee and its sting, a hyena and its badass teeth, a dick and its cum.

That’s how important he is to me. Or shall I say, was.

Yes, sad as I am like the rest of Zed’s colleagues, today I had to bid him an emotional farewell… for today is the day he retires from his line of duty. It was a sad news for me alright, but I didn’t plead for him to stay, as I respected his decision of retiring. He deserves the long break after all those years of hardwork.

I tried to ask what is he planning to do post his retirement – but he didn’t give a definite answer. He dawdled for a while before looking up to the sky with several beads of tears rolling down from the edge of his keratinous face. That was when I decided not to press further, perhaps the old follicle needed some time to be alone and think of his idle days getting old…

But whatever his plan is, I hope he knows that should he ever feel like coming back to work for me again, I definitely would be more than glad to welcome him back with an open nose.

“Farewell my friend…” I then said to him, and he gave me his only passport photo (as above) as a memento for our friendship and he wafted off into the thin air. He’s going to be missed by fellow colleagues, mucus and boogers alike.