It started much like every cold he'd ever had, sneezing, coughing and a tickle in the throat. What made this different was the rapidity with which the symptoms progressed and their severity. The tickle became an inflammation which made swallowing nearly impossible then it spread from the throat to the entire mouth leaving it bright red and causing extreme pain. The coughing became intense eventually producing spots blood mixed with the phlegm. The spots would grow larger and larger. Simultaneously the fever appeared, low grade at first, now a burning fever. A general weakness and listlessness kept him in his house. That little voice inside told him to seek a healer or .... .
Fortunately he'd seen a workman hanging a sign on a house on Long Street just a few days before and even more fortunately he asked the workman what the sign was for. "A barber/surgeon is taking up here." He just might be able to make it there.
Now, he lay in his bed burning with fever. His medicine lay on the floor just beneath his bed. He'd watched her mix it with eyes glazed with fever now it was his only chance to survive this, Red Thrush, as she called it. She'd been back to check on him several times but still the thrush progressed. He felt he would catch the blankets on fire and wanted to push them to the floor but she'd warned him to stay under the covers.
He looks to the doorway hoping she returns ... and soon..................
