While a summer cold is not entirely abnormal, our rapid-fire double-tap is certainly not something I anticipate again. It’s happened before, though with less steps. I get sick, which gets my wife sick, who gets me re-sick, who passes it on, and this is how the plague is created. Someday, in the distant future, when humanity has been destroyed by the Chimento Swine Flu of 2016, and all that remains breathing upon this embittered earth are the cabbage shrimp and the cave canaries that faked it because they were afraid of the dark, a single virgin cell, unravaged by disease, will land upon the carcass of a young Czech boy, and he shall spring to life and murmur, through lips both blessing and cursing his fate, “Cover your mouth when you cough.”
It’s our only hope.
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