You wake up at 3am in a pool of sweat. A deep, dry cough rattles your body and there is no position that doesn’t feel exhausting. You try to prop yourself up so you can breathe more easily and guzzle a glass of water. It spills down your face onto the bed but you are too tired to care. You’ve caught the COV, that thing’s for sure. You have never felt such an unbearable flu. You nestle into your duvet like it’s a teddy bear and try to get some rest. You try to remember the words to Happy Birthday and picture the process of humming it while you wash your hands. "Tomorrow," you think, "tomorrow, I’ll get soap." You toss fitfully and dream of Matt Damon and Gwenyth Paltrow in Contagion. You can’t remember how that movie ends.

The End