10 empty cans of 7Up lay around scattered over the bed mixed with Halls cough drops and tissues.
She lounges in the heap of it all in her black satin and red silk robe with her laptop as her only companion.
Her iPod plays on shuffle, her surprise at all the songs she didn’t realize she had on her iTunes.
Her phone rings but she can’t answer, it pains her too much to talk so she texts and she instant messages.
She flips the TV on for a bit, Telemundo, Comedy Central, Food Network, but all she thinks about is the pain.

And its just a cold.