She popped the thermometer into her mouth. Her eyes floated over to Darren, who had moved to lean against the bathroom doorframe.
“Your skin… It shouldn’t have… God, Eshe. Should I take you to the hospital?”
The thermometer beeped and she pulled it from her mouth. 103. That was manageable. At least she wasn’t going to liquefy into a puddle on her apartment floor anymore. She giggled. It would serve her damn landlord right. He really needed to get the a/c unit fixed.
“Why are you laug...
Published on April 14, 2013 06:26