Rhino-v.

A preposterous virus barges into my system. My entire body seems to become but a giant sneeze; I am helpless. Still I ride that elevator to the top floor and let their familiar voices envelop the evening. Now, as ever, I am in awe of their friendship, of their allowing me to be family. I will never believe I could deserve them. The walk home was devastatingly cold, but how short, the luxury is not lost.

The days pass, the mornings are lighter. My father asks what I'm doing with myself and I can only barely paint the plan to satisfaction. I play a game to which I've never read the rule book. It will disqualify me, it's merely lying in wait to, and then I can resume normal operations. But for once, just for once, I do not panic over the insufficient map, over the quickly beating heart, over the river rapid passing of time.

The apathy of January finds its purpose.

We are fine.