The Burning Fever

The cool grass had disappeared from beneath her. She felt herself float into the air...but there were hands on her, carrying her...perhaps it was an angel.

She could not open her eyes. They felt sticky and somehow like lead weights were pulling the lids shut. She stopped fighting it and kept her eyes shut.

Colours occasionally flashed on the screens that were her eyelids; green like the forest and blue of the sky...red as the berries she picked in the woods and bright yellow of buttercups and dandelions. She smelled burning; she wondered if the burning was her flesh. She felt so hot yet shivered as though it was mid-winter.

She tried to call out for help, for salvation or for the angel to return to her but her lips were parched and she seemed not to have the strength to manage even the faintest of whispers.

Images flashed in her mind in bits. She saw the lake, she saw her brother...no...not her brother. She was laughing. She had lost her shoe, the boy helped her look for it, and he smiled at her...people faded...she was in the apple tree, she couldn’t reach the apple...she was falling, screaming.

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and slowly rolled down her hot cheek.

The End

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