Aphrodisia

We have been at war for two years. It’s sometimes easy to forget, but then the fight comes close to home. I heard a young man get stabbed and the sticky, squishy sound still haunts my dreams.

Maybe I selfishly believed that this one horrible event would be the only scar on my life. The violence, the blood, the death, I thought that was all I would see.

I was wrong.

A couple months ago was the first time I heard of the illness. A man on the dock was the first I knew who had it. He went home and before long, he and his wife along with their children had all died. And since then, it seems to have torn through this place.

I wonder what we have done to anger the gods and bring this down on us. As I wonder, my face burns. It’s so hot tonight, though, when I look to Leucippus, he is bundled tight into our bed. I should be in his arms, but I am restless. And far too hot to sleep. It’s so hot that I’m constantly thirsty and I’ve been sneezing all night.

I’m in no state to sleep.

The numbers of ill are increasing daily, as are the dead. Most of the ill die within a week. Children and parents alike are being lost. And how will it end? What will stop the illness from taking us all?

Thinking this way is starting to unsettle me. My eyes hurt and my throat feels raw. I watch the full moon outside and wonder how it is pushing so much heat into my small house and how my husband seems so unbothered by it.

I pace through our rooms and am unable to quiet my mind. What will be lost with this war? What will be lost with this illness?

Surely all this suffering is so something wonderful can be created.

I hope Leucippus and I live to see it.