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 sixth 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 the final story of the challenge.

Seven Fevers

Stay Away Saturday

William was the very definition of a sociopath. 

It wasn’t just his opinion. His scores were high on test questions such as-

Do you consider yourself superior to others?

If you hurt someone else’s feelings, do you lack remorse or guilt?

Do you find yourself unable to empathise with others dealing with difficult situations? 

His Analyst told him he had an anti-social personality and William was delighted.

When people he knew approached he would cross the street and shake his head with the right amount of passive aggression. In Cafes he would demand a seat away from other customers. When commuters struck up stale-breathed conversations on crowded trains, he would reply with expletives. 

William had reached the stage in life when socio-pathology was like a second skin.

Then the pandemic arrived. 

It was a highly infectious virus strain. Borders were sealed. People instructed to stay at home. They could exercise once a day and must remain 2 metres apart. They must isolate with close family members only.

William felt gleeful. ‘That will teach these low brows and knuckle draggers.’ He thought.

He liked a long walk on a Saturday. It allowed him to clear his mind of human annoyances. He stepped out into bright, Spring sunshine.

His neighbour saw him and quickly hid behind a parked car. 

‘How rude.’ William muttered and continued on his walk.

The sun had brought many people out for exercise. Without any subtlety they moved away as he approached. 

‘Are you being serious?’ William said aloud but no-one listened.

His route finished at the local corner shop where he intended to buy a paper and some biscuits. A long, thin line of shoppers were spaced before the entrance. The Owner was giving everyone a mask and spraying hands with sanitiser.

Seeing William he groaned. 

‘Listen you miserable man. Keep your mouth shut. Wear this mask. Refuse and I will not be responsible for what happens next.’

Spontaneous applause rang out from the line of shoppers.

William held his hands up meekly to be sprayed. 

He made his way home. Trembling he picked up the phone and called his Analyst. 

‘Ask me the test questions again.’ He said. ‘Your diagnosis is wrong.’