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 first story below but also you can listen on my podcast. Enjoy and let me know what you think. Hopefully I will see you tomorrow for story 2.
Story 1 – I fell in love on a Monday
We met on a flight from Edinburgh. There was a mix up with seat allocation and a steward moved me beside her. She found it all pretty funny and we started talking. She had curled light brown hair which danced about her pale neck. I didn’t even feel the wheels on touchdown.
After the flight she came to my apartment and I gave her my mother’s necklace. She cried and hugged me. Then we sat and watched TV holding hands. Our programme was interrupted by a special announcement.
A powerful virus was spreading quickly. People were urged to return home and lockdown until infection levels reduced. They showed pictures of doctors in masks and patients paralysed on hospital beds.
‘I’ll go home and get some things and come back here tomorrow.’ She said. ‘We can lockdown together.’
I thought it was a great idea.
The next day came and went but she didn’t appear. The following evening she called. She was coughing and had a fever.
‘It’s only mild symptoms.’ She said. ‘It will pass.’
She texted some photographs of us she’d taken. I missed her.
The next day her brother called.
‘I know we’ve never met.’ He said. ‘Don’t be alarmed but my sister has been taken into ICU.’
‘I want to see her.’ I said.
After that he phoned a couple more times to tell me about the need for a ventilator. Weeks passed. All I had were the photographs she’d sent.
It was a Monday, weeks later when she phoned. She was hoarse but recovering well.
‘Thinking about us got me through.’ She said.
A TV announcement had recommended the easing of lockdown so we arranged to meet in the park near her home.
Wearing dungarees with a soft hat she was sitting on a bench with two coffees when I arrived. She flicked back her hair to show me my mother’s necklace and I saw a tender scar along her throat.
‘That’s from the tracheotomy.’ She said
I listened to her talk about the ICU and her recovery. All the time she had a photograph of us for comfort. I couldn’t stop looking at the scar which was misaligned when she spoke and how the necklace would catch the clumsy stitching. The coffee went cold in my mouth.
‘How have you been?’ She said. ‘We have so much to look forward to.’
‘Actually work has been terrible.’ I said. ‘I’m late for my flight. I have a conference to attend. The next few weeks are hectic.’
She didn’t say anything and I never looked back when I left the park. I stayed at the apartment for a few days then deleted the photographs she’d sent.
7 fevers – Story 1
