Diminished

I woke with a start. I’d sweated through my sheets and I felt like vomiting. I sat up in my bed. 6:30am. At least today I’d be telling the truth when I called out of work.

I skipped the cafe. Walking seemed like a bad idea and if I left my apartment I’d risk being too far from a toilet. In my 12 days in the city I’d seen public defecation, urination, and fornication. I had no intention of joining this illustrious group.

I was able to find sleep on my couch and woke back up at 11. A missed text. Were the people back home finally checking up on me to see if I’m still alive?

It was from Eli. ‘I’m in the area again. Actually, I’m in your building. What are you up to? Got plans later tonight but I’m free now.’ It had been sent 10 minutes ago. I replied ‘sick in bed.’ I fell back into slumber’s warm embrace.

When I woke up it was 5 and I was hungry and felt considerably better. I opened my fridge and noticed that if I was going to eat I’d have to cook something. The problem was that I didn’t know what it was I’d eaten that had done this to me. Had it been something in the omelet? The sandwich shop? I couldn’t be sure. So I was wary of everything.

An idea popped into my head. It was warm and made me feel a little bit better.

I opened my phone and sent Linda a text. ‘Would you like to get dinner tonight? I’ve been stuck home all day.’

Then I laid back on the couch and waited. But now I found that I couldn’t fall back asleep and that neither Zola or my magazines were doing a good job of holding my interest. I’d left my phone face up on my coffee table and I found myself glancing at it now and again.

A half hour later a notification blinked on my phone. I grabbed it off my coffee table immediately. ‘Can’t /:’ she’d replied. I was surprised that I felt my recovering stomach sink a little bit. ‘Maybe something tomorrow though?’ she added. Within a few seconds I’d replied ‘Sure, sounds great.’

I poured myself water in my tacky mug and got in bed. Now I’d have to recover in time for tomorrow.