Stomach Ache
Sleeping inside the “pillow fort” – as Atlanta calls it – is strange, yet strangely comfortable. In this way, I somehow do not mind sharing a mattress with her. But then again, we are cocooned in two separate nests made up of various pillows, cushions and blankets.
Cocoon. Yes. It is a cocoon.
Like the vague nightmare that I had a few days prior, but I valiantly beat it back from the fore of my mind.
I have a more immediate problem, anyway. Fortunately Atlanta is already deep asleep, judging from her slow, soft breathing.
My belly feels unsettled, and its protest becomes all the more vigorous as I attempt to ignore it.
Apparently, a large part or even all the foods and drinks that I have consumed here thus far do not agree with me. Most likely contributed by the unpleasant, overly greasy food that Atlanta bought me this morning. Previous experiences with new, deceptively harmless foods and drinks have taught me this. Head Healer Eir once explained the cause of this throbbing, wringing ache as a build-up of substances in the food or drink that my body rejects or clashes with but cannot flush out fast enough.
`Damn. Damn. Damn.`