She’d told me about the Sleeping Sickness, but I’d never understood. I didn’t have to anymore because a year later everything changed.
We’d shacked up in a cheap flat in a godawful area. We got jobs. Long hours, but we had money for the weekend provided we turned up. We went to the pub, supermarket, bank. Did normal things.
This is my dream, I said.
That’s the Sleeping Sickness, Sadie said sadly, you have it.
We did normal things.
She grew old from doing normal things. From being in prison. From electing to have me as jailer.
From Sleeping Sickness.