“Oh good–it’s turned into Ebola.” Rich finished blowing his nose and gazed suspiciously into the tissue.
Hunched over under layers of blankets to ward off the chills, I gave him the stink-eye. “J’accuse!” I raised a damning finger at him. (I think you can guess which one.) “You made me sick.”
We are living in a plague house.Continue reading “The Plague and The Introvert”