This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Kate Tellers.

A few years ago, I was walking through Brooklyn, wearing my first child in a carrier on my chest.

It had just rained, and I stepped on a piece of wet newspaper and fell face forward towards the sidewalk.

As my baby's tiny, perfect head careened towards the cement, my whole life flashed in front of my eyes, and then I went blank. Suddenly, we were on the ground, both crying while a stranger helped us up. I checked my baby,

he was fine. I pulled out a baby wipe from my bag to clean up the gravel on the hand that I had

wrapped around his head. It wasn't until 20 minutes later when a cashier I was trying to pay

stared open mouth at my hand that I realized that it was oozing with blood. I hadn't noticed.

I hadn't felt it. We were saved by my natural instincts that I didn't even know that I had,

reminding me that we're all more hardwired to our natural selves than we likely even realize.

In this episode, stories of humans and nature, how we coexist and how we communicate,

and what happens when our natural instincts take the wheel.

First up, a story from our Boston Open Mic StorySlam, where we partner with public radio station WBUR.

This one's from Seth Cohen.

Let's just say that the call was coming from inside the proverbial house.

Here's Seth.

Thank you. I pressed my head.

Take your time.

I pressed my head against the glass of the window in my 30th floor office.

It was the only way I could see the cargo ships heading out under the Golden Gate Bridge.

I was 29 years old, and I was a brand new associate in a huge global law firm. And I was sucking on a

cold sore that it erupted from my lip like the eighth wonder of the world. This thing was

enormous. It cast a shadow. And the phone rings.

...