What's on the tin.
Got something weird. Nausea, fever, some back pain (???).
I'll rest for two days and avoid the stress. Next chapter comes out on Wednesday.
Filling the rest with an AI-generated poem about being sick:
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
My head is pounding, my body aches,
I feel so tired, like I've run out of brakes.
My nose is stuffy, my throat is sore,
I feel like I can't take it anymore.
Every step is a struggle, every breath is a chore,
I wish I could just lie down on the floor.
My eyes are watery, my skin is pale,
This sickness is a burden, a heavy bale.
I long for the days when I was well,
When I could walk and talk and laugh and yell.
But now I'm stuck in bed, feeling low,
Watching the hours tick by so slow.
I pray for a cure, for relief from this pain,
So I can feel like myself again.
Until then, I'll rest and wait,
Hoping that tomorrow will be great.