I'm fast developing an allergy.
To the word-spore sigh.
Lately, if I see she sighed ... on a page, I'm likely to snot all over it.
Look, we breathe, don't we? In and out. We're hard-wired to inhale and exhale, and sometimes we hold our breath for a moment before letting it go, quite naturally.
I sigh many times during a day.
Like just now when I corrected a typo.
How did such a common and involuntary action become elevated to the level of pseudo-drama? Become a coy announcement of emotional significance? Become such a bloody cliche?
If your character is painted in such flat, two-dimensional terms that you must frequently aggrandize such a minute, mundane, and normal nasal operation to expel carbon dioxide, I suggest you might consider you're following, unthinkingly, a lazy formula.
A Doll of a Different Kind:
As I said in the review/interview posted here by Ello on her thoughtful, articulate blog today -- I am still on a state of astonished delight over the reception of Stone Child, from Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Tales (on the sidebar), and my protagonist Lillie St. Clair.
Thank you, Ello, for your act of generosity, which might be random - but definitely not unkind.