Janine’s small frame stiffens, her eyes scrunch up, and she releases three high-pitched sneezes. The germs spread over the heavy tome in her lap, infecting the words of the story, making the inconspicuous book perilous for the next person who checks it out from the library. The virus knits itself into her frumpy sweater, waiting to leap from her arms onto the hands and faces of the children for whom she cares. The disease drags itself down her pants and onto her mismatched socks, making abettors of her feet who will carry it everywhere she goes. Janine is an epidemic.
Decided to take a break at work and write this instead. I'm pretty pleased with it, because it's another drabble! This one was almost accidental; I did a word count and it was 99 words, so I decided to add one more, just for fun. You know how it is. Also, I keep forgetting that my amazing friend Leta made this for me: