John pushed through the crowd as he heard the train approaching.
An anxious buzz coursed through his bloodstream.
An ear-to-ear grin widened his red-hued face.
There was no way he was going to miss the birth of his child.
Overcoming his germaphobia, he boarded.
Upon departure, he imagined billions of germ-filled microbes penetrating his immune system.
Two stops later, and the thought of a virus, he was out the door, up the stairs, hustling to the hospital.

With a shirt covered in sweat, he entered Massachusetts General and got on the elevator, anticipating
his life-changing event. Heading straight for the delivery room, he took a deep breath, put on a mask, and went in.

Immediately he saw his wife cradling a newborn, who bared a striking resemblance to their mailman,
who also was in the room. When locking eyes with his wife, she confessed... "Sorry John, he's not yours."