I Wrote This At 4am Sick With Covid Work May 2026

We are the ones watching the shadows shift on the wall, listening to the rhythmic breathing of the people in the next room who are lucky enough to be unconscious.

Eventually, the birds will start chirping. The sky will turn that bruised shade of purple-grey that signals the dawn. The fever might break, or it might just retreat for a few hours to catch its breath. i wrote this at 4am sick with covid