It was another bad day.

Maude lay curled up on the couch mindlessly plucking at the Les Paul she still had. Brett had tried to find her another gig but currently no one was looking for talent.

I woke up that morning sick as a dog.

I caught a spring flu. My aches were worse than normal and I had a hellfire fever. Hopefully it would pass by the time my date with Angus came but with my luck I didn't count on it. As I made a mental will and counted off the minutes for my imminent death, Maude crept in. "I brought you more medicine," she said laying the cup on my nightstand. 

I'd have thanked her if my throat weren't so hoarse. Maude had to phone my folks along with hers to give them the dreadful news. 

Before I lost my voice I insisted Maude stay away so she wouldn't catch my fate. But she also insisted on being my friend and nurse me back to health. That included plenty of water, medicine on the hour, and scheduled naps. 

I had also managed to communicate Loretta's invitation to a girls' night and Maude was ecstatic. She had just bought a new pair of leather hose and matching garters and wanted a night on the town. I just hoped I'd still be alive by next Tuesday. 

Brett swung by with a box of soup. 

What a doll. 

Just as I was starting to think he was real and not a fever induced hallucination, I fell asleep.