The cold

The scratching in her throat was worse when she woke. She groaned and rolled out of bed. Her head throbbed and she squinted as much as possible to keep the light out. As she padded to the bathroom, she felt her nose run; a small trickle tickled her upper lip and she brushed it away with her hand. She wanted to call in sick, but had no sick leave left. One more sick day and she would be fired. That was all that was left.

‘If you make us all sick, I will be really pissed off.’

So much for sympathy from her colleagues. She placed her take-away coffee on the small desk in her cubicle and sat heavily in her chair. Wondering if she had ever had a dream, she flicked on the computer and stared as the screen lit up.

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