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“I’m not feeling so good all of a sudden.” Warmth creeps up my neck, spreading over my face. My cheeks flush. With a hand under my elbow, he marches me over to the leather couch, and directs, “Sit.” Feeling strangely weak, I do. He goes into the bathroom and returns with a thermometer. “Open,” is his next command, which I follow, allowing him to insert the slender glass tube under my tongue. In thirty seconds he removes it, looks at it, and frowns. “Hundred and two.” Within minutes, my head is pounding. A.J. feeds me two aspirin. After an hour lying on the couch, sneezing, feverish, wracked with chills, I can no longer deny the obvious. I’ve come down with the flu. Is this the universe’s way of trying to tell me something? For five days, I’m completely out of it. I haven’t been thi
- Writer
