Countdown 4

His brain must have taken a few steps back after opening the fridge. You’re taking strong antibiotics, a reminding voice popped from nowhere to an inch from his ear, and still need to do ten or so pills. Doc says no beer until the meds ran out. But his sleep must come tonight, he needs to rest. He shut the fridge’s lips back. Shit shit, he said, while pictures of this July’s sleeplessness creeps from the corners of his eyes

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