Josh awakes Saturday morning to the needling of soft rain on the metal awning outside his bedroom window. He lies in the warmth of his damp sheets. He feels the rattling in his chest worsening. His throat is raw and he has trouble swallowing. His skin is feverish, his eyelids as heavy as sandbags. He sighs and curls up in a fetal position. The rain is the only soothing sound at the moment. Then, over the angry voices of the tenants below, Josh hears a sharp thump on his apartment door. He thinks the noise might be a hallucination from the fever.
But when the urgent force of knuckles on the door comes five beats later, Josh raises his head up from the pillow. The slamming headache squashes all hope of finding sleep. With shaky hands, he reaches for his lukewarm lemonade on the nightstand.
