So the storm becomes a hurricane of epic proportions and New York City is stuck in a typhoon that lasts two whole days. I'm stuck in some lifeless, airless apartment on my own with Mico on phone duties should I need anything and yet it's not like I care.
I'm sick, glands all swollen and body aching with a fever. I toss and turn in bed and just can't seem to do anything but drift in and out of shallow sleep for small bursts. I don't know if it's emotional and I'm just run down, or I should be worrying about something more.
Alexi never used condoms, yet he sleeps with so many women he could have given me something. I never thought of that aspect before, as I used to see his discarded condom wrappers in the bin when he has stayed over, and it never dawned on me he would be careless. I don't
