Etchings

  The sketches from the last few days can't really describe what this pain feels like.  Curled inward, red and puffed, an angry roll against the edges of my stomach.  The fever rises from below and steams in my temple.  Outside people are running and talking high scores; in my home, I am waiting for the temperatures to melt away. 

  Cold?  Sinus infections?  Residual stomach bug complaints?  Or a cacophony of mild ailments speaking a language of chronic frustration at the expectations of modern life?