Once upon a time, there was a writer on a deadline. A close deadline and too far to go. The writer, however, was rather optimistic that the deadline, slightly extended, was doable.
But she awoke one Wednesday morning to find her home invaded by a nasty virus. Her 94-year-old mother was the first to fall victim and was bad enough that she had to be taken to the hospital to be rehydrated, IV solutions replacing all of the lost body fluids. No writing that day.
The next day dawned. Mother was feeling somewhat better, so the writer went back to work, thinking one missed day of work wasn’t so terrible. But by early afternoon, the virus made itself known again. It had not left the house but had gone into hiding. By evening, writer was too faint to even let the precious dog outside. Thankfully, said writer had a wonderful daughter who, despite symptoms of same virus, came to the writer’s rescue, driving over, letting out the dog, seeing mother to her bed, giving her something to lower her fever, and spending most of night on the sofa, just in case she was needed. (God bless daughters!)
Two mornings after that, the writer’s fever finally broke for good, taking with it her chills and dizziness but leaving behind an overall persistent weakness. Deadline was now looming ever closer. Writer began praying for a miracle.
The above short story serves as a public service warning. Wash your hands frequently. Avoid this nasty virus, whatever you do.