Last night, my fever came to a head. Just before my fever broke, I was hot, sweaty, and tangled up in blankets. I rolled over and put my hand on Ethan’s back. Ethan told me, “Can you move your hand? It’s really hot.”
“There’s too many people,” I muttered. “Too many voices.”
“What? Are you awake?”
“Yes!” I said, irritated.
Ethan looked worried. “How many people are there in this room besides you and me?”
“How many voices do you hear besides my own?”
Frustrated, I shook my head, said, “I was speaking metaphorically,” and turned over.
Sadly, I was awake. And it made perfect sense when I said it. ♦