Still on break from blogging meanwhile, again Mr. Miller.
I open the door. I must get this right.
Last week I came down with a fever. In the beginning it was only 102 degrees or so, nothing approaching my record. Still, I was sweating heavily. The sheets wet. The room muggy. In the distance rain threatened, but so far over my house, nothing.
I went down to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door to cool off. I stood there naked for a few minutes and then went back up to bed.
I was in someone else’s home, paying $150 a night. One of the owner’s dogs had died and the remaining little dog was sad in the room. He lay like a shoe at the foot of my bed. I could hear him breathing and then I am sure my fever got worse because I began to imagine a movie made like a high fever and what a…
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