I appreciate the aching lucidity of a good fever, but days over 100°F began to blend like watercolors. When the persistent heat began to subside I felt empty, almost lonely without the constancy of its presence. Hungry but still nauseated after a couple bites. What is it my body wants? What's supposed to fit into this bare place left where a little sickness was?

In the rain today every car passing through the street under the window says shush.