Patient zero was a week ago,

she stumbled into the ER at the Royal Alex

coughing up sputum; green veined with red.

Isolated quickly, we donned duckbills to see her

and shuffled into the room with paper over our shoes.

A spiking fever followed, then convulsions

and a grocery list of symptoms that proclaimed, like sky writing

"She is going to die!"

And she did.

Then she attacked Randy—moments after he declared her.

Nearly got me too, the bitch.


Today the world is scarred, unrecognizable.

Infected, riots and fires no one fought…

They called it a pandemic.

It was no pandemic, it was an explosion.


Editor’s Corner


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