Brine of pickled fish*

The weather goes cool and dry, and coincidentally I lose all memories of the last three weeks. Also experience a massive attack of wanhope and malaise. Oh but I hate working, I think, and then consider that the aching neck, the ring of pain about the eye, and the dark night of the soul might possibly relate to that part of work where I held a child with a 103F fever for an hour yesterday. Take pain killers and nap and begin to feel more human.
( These fragments I have shored against my ruin )