I decided to challenge myself to write a short story each day for a week on the theme of infection. Each story is no longer than 500 words and 4 minutes in length. Some are serious others less so. Find the text of the fifth story below but you can also listen on my podcast. Enjoy and let me know what you think. Hopefully I will see you tomorrow for story 6

Seven Fevers

Friday is for Dreamers

Every week in my office is grim. Emails, phone calls, deadlines. That’s why my co-workers and I love Friday evening. We sit in bars from 5pm till late. They’re always packed. That’s where I caught the virus.

My supervisor thought it was a hangover when I called in sick on Monday. He wanted to send work assignments over.

‘No.’ I said. ‘I’ve got a fever and this persistent cough.’

I went to bed early with a temperature of 102.2°F.  Sweat soaked the sheets but something strange also happened. I had an amazing dream.

Hidden amongst succulent trees was a mansion of glassless windows. I lay on scented pillows. Beautiful men and women fanned me with cooling fronds.  My hands were cupped with delicious mango.

Although I felt terrible the next day I kept thinking about the dream. That night I swam deep underwater without the need to breathe and could feel dark sea beds. 

The night after that, I floated high above undiscovered lochs and heathered glens.

By the following weekend my temperature was back to 97°F. The doctor said it was normal to feel only mild symptoms and I could return  to work.

My supervisor pointed to my desk when I returned. I couldn’t see the computer for paperwork. It took till Friday to clear the backlog. 

No one wanted to go drinking at 5pm.

‘They’re announcing Lockdown measures this weekend.’ My co-worker said. ‘Better stay home.’

But I didn’t stay home. I found the busiest bar near my office and drank and hoped for re-infection.