The paralysis was sudden and accompanied by a feeling of dull sickness. A great desolate expanse in head and heart, lapping on the distant, a forgetful numbing of affect and care.

Took on all the appearance of a joy division song.

The problem may be nutritional or chemical. Certainly an imbalance. A failure to address certain essential needs.
He knew he’d never be well again. No flu was this, a viral intrusion that would be denatured by antibodies. The invader was part of him. Like his skin was.

When he thought about removing his skin, of peeling it from his flesh, it only partially felt like a cure.

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