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O Germany! who could love you in that condition? In similar years–though no winter had been quite so prolonged and so severe–I had floated through the surrounding gloom, buoyed up by the memory of my native sun.
Recalling its heat filled me with an angry vigor. I was the one who walked faster on the streets, I was the one who spoke louder when I bought bread.
The book of eve carmen boullosa reviews
But now my last reserves of energy had been drained away by my sickly fantasy: the whole world was coming down with flu.
The flu of my imagination was not scary and overpowering. It was the flu, nevertheless; headache, body aches, tiredness, sneezing, a nonstop dripping of the nose, shivers, phlegm, and an intermittent cough, a sly cough that made everybody sound alike, regardless of sex or physical build.
This flu was, like all its other manifestations, contagious and frankly incurable. Cold medicines and antihistamine tablets couldn’t make a dent in it. The only help was aspirin, and even that didn’t do mu