One Soup Bowl

That Friday morning I had awoken with a sore throat and noticed white lumps growing inside. The move was the next day so I kept packing way into the AM. By Saturday afternoon the growths had spread up and down both sides of my throat so I found my bed amidst mounds of cardboard boxes and crawled in for the night but it was not long until I was oscillating between chills and hot flashes.

I was sick and alone in a strange house so I phoned someone who informed me that I definitely had the strep and needed to gargle and get lots of fluids. Feverish, I stumbled through the place but could not manage to find anything but an oddly-shaped soup bowl/cup. I was afraid I would die so I gargled and drank out of this until the next day when I could get to a doctor.

With no phone or Internet, I felt completely isolated since I could not Google to locate a doctor or find a pharmacy or view strep symptoms.

There was no one else to call and certainly no one to help. I do not know how I made it through the next five days. At some point I managed to locate a can of soup. The thought that I would die alone and know one would notice for a long time kept playing through in my head.

Boxes of stuff -- this is really the sum of my existence on this planet. This many decades and my only proof of me lie in some cardboard boxes. I've produced no family, little furniture, and no home. It seems as if I have worked allot but I am not sure what. Education? My sanity?

These things do not make for the best companionship in my new world.