Also known as: “A (t)issue You Care About”
I can’t breathe. It’s like someone has shoved a water balloon up my nose: there’s a big lump blocking me from sniffing, but every so often something wet dribbles out of my left nostril like a slow puncture. It’s so annoying. My throat feels like sandpaper no matter how much I drink, and despite the fact all I want to do is sleep, the loud, raspy breathing I’m forced to do through my mouth isn’t exactly making sleeping comfortable.
Yes, I am telling you this because I expect you to care. This is a big issue. My well-being is so much more important than yours. I expect you to go and get me some pillows, some cough mixture, and a box of tissues. Oh, and don’t forget the chocolate. It’s the end of the world for me right now, and you must look after me.
Every day during February I’m going to write a piece of creative writing inspired by a prompt. The prompts have been taken from here, although I may shuffle some of the days around if I fancy.
And yes, it’s true. I’m ill.