“I know…I wasn’t feeling good…I didn’t want anyone else to get anything if I am sick…I know Uncle George…I’m sure I’ll be fine…”
Eron woke with a start. In his dream, George had scolded him for not coming over for Christmas dinner. Eron squinted at the clock. Eleven fifty-five. He still had time to make the two o’clock dinner.
He’d awakened earlier, gotten up, made some toast, and crawled back into bed to read the paper. He ended up sleeping a total of fifteen hours since Sunday night.
He threw back the covers and got out of bed. The cold floors sent a chill through him as he made his way to the bathroom. He took off the pajama bottoms and took stock of himself in the mirror. The pit in his stomach grew as he stared. Puffy, dark circles hung from his eyes. His normally tan-olive skin ha
