They will be 40 degrees or more. But for one are always 55. When it starts to shake and not cold. I look out the window to be sure, and everyone is in shirt. Cold does not, but I tremble like a leaf. And my feet are cold and boiling the head. I get out of bed and go to ibuprofen, walking very slowly, emulating a 98-year old, fucked and covered with flies, dragging his feet in slippers winter, refusing to feel the fever. So I will not have luck.
The tablet of ibuprofen is empty. But do not despair, because I can go buy another. But if I can walk to the bathroom, unless I can walk three blocks to the pharmacy. Still, going back to bed.
Ojala dream catch me and pass me the fever, even a little, to get out into the street. I start to scratch a pimple on my left arm, a little below the shoulder, arm in that part of the leftover meat. I find it easy, because I have quite long nails, like a guitarist. I scratch and I feel no pain, not even bothering me. I went out the pus that was enough, while if the stock was trading pus, I would make a few bucks. I keep scratching while watching the news on TV, dead people everywhere, especially in the ditches. I scratch and I scratch until blood begins to flow in my arm, but with the fever-hot body I did not realize. He trembled so. And on TV, a star old advised me to keep my jewelry in a safe place, assuming I had jewelry in my house, and saying that my house is unsafe. I laughed at the nerves. And I was scratching.
