5
There are two of them now. Earlier Todd had thrown back the covers because he was so hot. The sheets below him were drenched with sweat, sour smelling and rapidly cooling. He switched on the light, and when he stretched out his leg, he saw another sore had sprung up on his instep, a little purple-brown thing, a twin to the one next to it, looking for all the world like a blood blister.
But he knew it wasn’t. He’d read enough about the virus to know the hateful little spot for what it was: a Kaposi’s sarcoma lesion. Todd had seen a guy once on the “L” back in Chicago, whose face was covered with the sores. Todd had felt so sorry for him, having to wear the badge of his disease so publicly.
And now it’s my turn. Todd reached down and rubbed at the two small lesions, feeling their tex
