Sick - Cover

Sick

Copyright© 2022 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 1

I was sick ... Oooo worse than that ... it was the fever, coughing, shortness of breath, trouble breathing, fatigue, chills-sometimes with shaking, body aches, headache, sore throat, congestion with a runny nose, loss of smell or taste, nausea, diarrhea kinda sick ... just plain awful. Thought I might die kind of sick ... and it got worse. I could eat ... if I wanted to see food later.

If I fell asleep ... my muscles relaxed and I shit the bed.

I was admiring my blooming rose bush and smelled grilled steak ... burnt grilled steak.

Tuesday, March 19, 2019 ... before Covid 19 became a ‘pandemic.’

I knew I was sick ... It couldn’t be the flu ... I’d had the shot ... I was pretty miserable.

I probably infected 2 thousand and then went to a band concert at West High. West was packed with proud parents ... and a thousand students. Half way through, I pissed my pants and saw the pee over soaked the chair ... and watched it start running down to the front ... I was doing my part to spread it.

Food Stamps had been added to my card on the 14th. I took the bus to Walmart. The bus was packed with folks headed to the shop.

The local ‘Mart was packed with folks getting caught up to Easter ... I shit in every stool and peed in all the urinals ... damn water pills. A coughing jag hit me, I got airheaded and couldn’t stop.

I contaminated the whole damn store.


Some folks shop Walmart because they’re rich and want to stay that way. The trophy wife confered with the event staff ... including the housekeeper. The house party was scheduled for Friday week.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The housekeeper summoned the chauffeur and the kitchen staff, issued the house card, the ‘list’ and gave specific orders.

“Walmart,” she said. “Consult the list.”

“Yes, Mrs. Hacket.”

“Don’t forget,” she said.

“No, Mrs. Hacket.”

The last time the list wasn’t followed to the letter, the ‘keeper of the list’ was let go and the rest had a ‘missive’ in their folder. Two ‘missive’s’ and out the door.

The party loaded up in the ‘old’ limo, and drove off to meet me.

Not that they were aware they were meeting me.


“There will be 43 guests,” said the wife.

“Yes, ma’am,” where am I going to put them? Twenty one couples and a spare. 14 guest rooms ... three couples in the ‘office.’ Ah ... pool house.

 
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