InterNutter

Indie writer seeks audience with an audience. Paying customers welcome. [pronouns: ze/hir] Daily free stories happen because it is an excellent counter to Writers' Block.

Burpengary East http://www.cmweller.com 12152 posts

Friday, Plague Day 11, Shrinkydinks

I need more sleep. I am pretty much constantly out of breath. I do still possess my sense of smell.

I have learned that I am better at doing things when I am seated. Which puts an entire kibosh on a lot of activities.

I have also had an incident with the low-blood pressure wooblies. In which standing up almost causes me to pass out.

Which, in turn, means that my Beloved is on my tail to imbibe more fluids. Bless.

It seems to be working, so I shouldn't complain.

I'm still having a lot of trouble with a lot of walking. Either my legs get weak or, like this morning, having a knee decide to stop working properly.

Fun.

Anyway, I have a small space of time to write today's tale. During which, I must take my daily dose of atrovent by nebuliser. Because Bad Air Days are my life now. My O2 levels are still above 95% which is apparently human normal. I still need it because it makes breathing much less stress.

Onwards to fiction. Let's get it going.

Challenge #03497-I209: Sleepless in Ship's Night

"Can you help me? I can't sleep again. I keep waking up and pacing the floor." -- Anon Guest

Rescue Humans come with their own rewards. They also come with their own detriments. Such as chronic anxiety and sleep issues. The flip side is the hyper-vigilance that has saved far too many to be counted by now. So periodic interruptions to the rest cycle are a small price to pay.

With that in mind, Companion Thark kept any and all reprimands to

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Thursday, Plague Day 10

I'm DONE with my antibiotics! Huzzah!

I'm still horking up chunks, but they're not green, so I'm not worried.

I'm also working on clearing out my lungs from even more blockages, but that's a slow progress kind of thing. Baby steps. Teeny weenie tiny baby steps.

...infitessimal, annoying, baby steps...

Turns out I was worrying for weeks over an absent utterance by MeMum that she both dismissed and firkin forgot about. ARGH. I got myself worked up over essentially nothing. Growl.

Next

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Challenge #03496-I208: Parenting is a Trial

Parent 1 - "And who do you want to sit with?"

Child - "Parent 2!"

Parent 2 - "Here's a seat."


Parent 1 - "Would you like a hug?"

Child - "No!"

Parent 1 - "Oh, OK." -- Anon Guest

[AN: Funny story time. When Miss Chaos (youngest spawn) started her first day of Official School, I asked her if she wanted a hug. Her exact words: "Shut up." Kids'll murder you. Heart first.]

Parenting has its rewards, but they're not where

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Wednesday, Plague Day 9 and Wordpress

I am reclaiming digestive equilibrium! Yay team!

I have almost finished my antibiotics! Yay team!

I was able to focus and write a story in an hour! Yay team!

On the other side...

I'm still firkin tired all the dang time. Booo...

I'm still having Bad Air Days. Booo...

I'm still battling with gastric reflux. Booo...

According to fellow survivors, recovery is a slow climb back towards normal, and may never actually achieve it.

Taking things one day at a time seems

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Challenge #03495-I207: When You Assume...

They're brought to the medics with blistered arms and burns on the face, though the eyes were protected due to goggles. OOPS, they didn't read the directions when trying to fix a faulty replica of a steampunk machine's boiler. -- Anon Guest

"The good news is that the damage is superficial," said Human Fonz, currently on some really excellent painblockers. "The bad news is that it's over -uh- about a quarter of my body. Who knew those leather aprons were for more

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Tuesday, Plague Day 8, Patreon and Freedom

I am technically free to wander the wilds of the world. I am not over the side-effects of the plague.

Breathing is still a twitch difficult, but going about my daily stuff is seeming increasingly achievable.

I still have some gastric reflux and some uncertainty in the bowel department. I am not feeling inclined to go anywhere and do anything.

I shall see if I feel at all inclined to have an actual meal rather than a series of small snacks.

BUT

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Challenge #03494-I206: Not What it Says on the Tin

"I'm a cook, but I can't cook for shit!" she said.

"But how can you be a cook?" I replied. -- Anon Guest

"Okay," droned Human Cook. "I have to explain the joke. Cook is my family name?"

"Ah," said Companion Vael. "Asked and answered. From this, I can extrapolate that you complain of too many cooks and perhaps spoiled broth?"

"Got it in one. Thankyou for not making me dragging it out." Cook relaxed. "Shitty kitchen talent not withstanding, I can

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Monday, Plague Day 7, Quirblies

I've got some internal nonsense happening related to the plague. Or it could be related to the antibiotics. I don't know. Either way, staying hydrated is a priority of sorts.

Might be looking up how to make Miso soup in the home with the stuff I have to hand. I'll need all of that. Not that I feel too tremendously terrible. Yet.

I'm trying to stay far away from civilisation whilst I still have symptoms. I shall be re-establishing a normal soon.

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Challenge #03493-I205: Covert Operations

The CRC rewards handsomely for those that rescue Dereggers from their polities, but what of those who do not wish to leave their home planets because they are trying to help, from the inside, make things better? Does the CRC reward if they are kidnapped and taken as a "rescue" against their will, or are they allowed to go home to continue their work? -- The New Guy

Consent is essential when rescuing Dereggers. Forcing people to go where they do not

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Sunday, Plague Day 6, worn

I still need rest. I am not playing any games with the crew tonight. This plague has left me feeling a lot more worn out than usual. The post-lurgi sensation of limp, greasy, unwantableness continues to linger. So I shall baby myself. Wait until I'm sure that I am up to snuff, so to speak, before I take some wobbling steps back into what passes for my normal routine.

I need my voice to stream. I don't need it to write. So.

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Challenge #03492-I204: Covert Patriotism

The CRC keeps trying to reward them for going around rescuing Dereggers and going from station to station to help clean and repair things and getting the stations back on track. They only accept enough to keep their ship in good repair and have supplies. The rest? Well, there are now a couple of charities set up to help those in need. -- Fighting Fit

Picture in your mind a general transit made for just about any work within civilised space. The

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Saturday, Plague Day 5, Recovery?

I'm feeling better and brighter today. I spent half the night horking up what felt like chunks of lung. So I have NO idea why I feel so firkin well-rested.

I am on antibiotics, which require me to eat something twice a day. A big ask for this nerd.

I'm waiting for my tea to cool, and I might have to take my horse pill with a dose of Shandy because I am actually hungry. This is a big deal for me.

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Challenge #03491-I203: Audience With the Thrice Sworn King

"I'm not a King."

--But you're wearing a crown...---

"I'm a servant.

---I don't understand....----

He goes to the window and points to the cities and lands stretching far and wide. "I serve them. They are MY Kings and Queens."

The thief nods in confusion as they are not being punished, but being offered more funds to help feed their family. -- The New Guy

What are kings? Conquerers and bullies. Greedy guzzling gourmands with cloth-of-gold over their guts. Gilded

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Friday, Plague Day 4, incoming medical assistance?

My head's a bit clearer today. However, my voice is shot to shit and trying to talk makes me regret it in twenty minutes or less.

Which is going to make a phone call from the Covid Response Teams some "interesting times". Beloved has offered to talk for me, but she's sleeping off the Plague 90% of the time.

It's going to hurt.

I feel like I'm recovering, but it could easily be a false upswing before something else lands on me

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