...from a dream in which I had a persistent dry cough. Just a dream, then I gave a dry cough, then another one.
Oh dear. And of course. Of course I have Covid-19. After all, I live in Cullybackey, which is the current pandemic hot-spot in the Occupied Six Counties.
I pondered my fate. Perhaps I'll be one of the fortunate ones who get off lightly, who survive. That seemed likely. Apart from the persistent dry cough I felt fine. Then the guilt kicked in. Who might I have infected in the previous week?
Putting these anxious thoughts aside, I leapt from my bed, feeling sprightly enough, went downstairs, made coffee, ate a home made scone, returned to bed, completed a Sudoku puzzle, finished Lady Glenconner's posh memoir and started on Kate Atkinson's Big Sky. Looked at Jess lying beside me and wondered if perhaps my dry cough might have been due to inhaling her dander. Oh well, nothing another cup of coffee won't cure.
I live to fret another day.
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