Contagious
By
Craig Wilson
The
smoke clears and I find myself at the charity shop.
But
I have no recollection of my return as a volunteer.
Using
the mirror in the changing room, I look at myself.
I am
wearing a dark blue uniform and a big name badge.
I feel
deathly ill, though. I cough and sneeze way too often.
Many
staff members begin to feel sick and have to leave.
The
manager, of course, blames me and makes me feel bad.
I
run out of the charity shop, and I even run out of the dream.
The
End
The above story is a loose
adaptation of a dream I had. If there is anything you would like to ask, feel
free to leave a comment, and thank you for reading.
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