I was down with a mortal affliction that was insanely close to taking my life away. Two days ago, I had my second book out and went to Han’s for supper with Dad. All was good (prematurely) — he enjoyed his Curry Chicken while I was greatly satisfied with Beef Hor Fun and Spaghetti with Chicken. Perhaps mine were portions too huge and undesirable for a weary stomach. My intestines gave way like broken water-pipes, releasing an ordeal of pain and palpable versions of death that were killing me from within.
The day after I was scrunching like a millipede, wringing my tummy in throes. The acute abdominal pain was distressing.
I then saw the world as dead 4 days ago when I fell hard in the cold enfeebling arms of death — all living things having coalesced into a lifeless and dreadful matter, where everything breathing and moving seemed unreal. Stars in the witching hour merely looked like tiny holes with penetrating light.