We’d had the flu earlier that week, first Jason and then me.  So we’d taken turns feeling sorry for ourselves and then for each other.  I’d read the day before in a Cosmopolitan that a cure for the flu is sex, something about endorphins, or whatever those healing hormones are.  So we figured that even if the antibiotics we downed couldn’t help us, this was something we could do for one another.  And you know, I think it worked.  Laying around lazy and nude helped to lower the fever, while the heat killed our virus, and all of this together, it gave us a strong sense of accomplishment.  We had enough food stockpiled in the freezer, we figured we could hold out like this forever, never needing doctors again.

Read this story in its entirety