Chapter Eight“Morning,” Becky smiles, before continuing to unpack her lunch, ready to go into the staff fridge.
I try to respond, but nothing much comes out, except a cough. After surviving most of the winter without so much as a sniffle, today my body decides it would be funny to develop a cold.
“You look like shit.” She takes a step back and c***s her head to the side.
“Thanks, I feel so much better hearing that.” My voice has returned, though way more hoarse than normal.
“Thank f**k it’s Friday, eh?” Becky gives me a pat on the back and heads to the kitchenette. I hope she’s going to bring coffee. I could kill for a cup of coffee right now.
While she’s gone, I try to snap out of my fuzzy-headed trance. It’s like someone has placed a metal t*****e helmet over my head and is now putt
