Chapter Twenty-Six
“Faith is the substance of the things we hope for,
And evidence of those that are not seen...”
― Dante Alighieri
The next day I was woken up by my alarm, and I felt worse than I could ever imagine. Every part of my body hurt, and every move was a struggle. I couldn’t imagine being stuck at home until I was back to being my normal self. The A’rea had b***h slapped me good and proper, and on top of that my whole face looked like the swollen arse of a baboon.
After coffee that tasted like the swill they served in hospital, I looked through the book of potions that I kept hidden in my bedroom. The red elixir made from the feathers of an angel (yeah, they existed too) was supposed to numb the pain. Normally the bottle of tequila was my usual salve to fix the problem, but
