Jaxon groaned when he rolled over in bed. He paused and tried to crack open the eye not buried in the pillow. It barely opened and felt odd. He coughed because of a dry throat. His nose had clogged. Then he remembered the face plant on the concourse floor and the talk with Doctor Queron. His chuckling set him into a fit of coughing. He needed some water.
© 2025 Althea Damgaard
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