The whole city's got what I got, which is kind of horrifyingly communal, in a grocers shopping basket sort of way. The punknurse told me that it is highly unlikely influenza is psychosomatic, so the flat has been quarantined. Deirdre generously picks up Simon at the front door, it guilt free for me for not being able to walk him. "THANK YOU", I say in to the door intercom, my only connection to the outside world, she slides the container of soup across the hall floor. I had the foresight to rent a stack of movies and juice the day before. I do sick well.