Soft flakes of Kleenex filled phlegm litter my desk, clutter my thoughts as cotton masks my sight. The coldness creeps up and licks my face in icy teases and I crave a hot melt in waters of relaxed joints. Wrinkles fold into each other and scars of ravaged age push up against smooth skin. A sparkled bauble aches my eyes and blackness soothes the perception of comfort. Voices rumble and are unable to focus across the foggy chambers of my head and I crave release from the dry hacking cough of a cracked and blood soaked lip. Sickness consumes me.