The Daily Dime: Josh

Joshua opened his eyes, and couldn't tell if he was awake. The lights were off, and the shades drawn. Any hint of light sent him into a migraine that he'd easily describe as blinding.

He'd fallen to the same mysterious illness that had become a world epidemic. "Trans" it was called. Joshua lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. His sweat formed a minuscule membrane over his body, the hard boils and pus filled sores that covered his body visible underneath. He looked over at the machine responsible for monitoring his morphine intake. It had fired not too long ago, which explained his feeling of being displaced.

He held his hand up to his face and unwrapped the bandages. A gangrenous infection had set in unnoticed with the appearance of the first boils, and it was his sincere hope that the doctors wouldn't have to amputate. Has hand looked no better and no worse; his once dark olive hand was now a pale yellow. The same. He arched his back in an attempt to stretch his tightening muscles and shortening ligaments, and every joint protested with the infection that had made it's way into his cartilage. He lay on the bed and let his hand fall to his side. His stomach was empty, and he wished he could have something more substantial than the IV tube, but knew that if he dared, it would just come back up.

He wanted to roll over, but bone spurs on his hip from being bed ridden prevented the pursuit of greater comfort. He resigned himself to his position and closed his eyes to try to doze back to sleep. Joshua had completely lost all sense of time. Sleep was his only comfort, and as such, he sought it more than any other activity.

He awoke to an immense heat, and jolted right out of bed, fearing that the hospital was on fire. Hospitals had not been immune to the surrounding violence and insurgency. The room was darker than usual, and seemed to be filled with impenetrable shadow. He rolled over to page the nurse's station when he noticed his entire rig of bedside monitors had vanished, along with the horizontal slats that passed for drawn blinds, and the four walls that had pretended to offer protection and hope.


Joshua jumped out of bed, and saw that his bed was now perched on a simple metal disk. He walked over to the edge of the bed and what he saw caused him to dry heave. After his heaves were over, he returned to the edge to confirm what he thought was certain to be a nighttime hallucination, but feared that it might not be. The voice he heard confirmed it.

Yes Joshua. You are a hair's breadth from the fire. Joshua recognized the voice, and true to its form, was something that he felt more than heard. He felt the voice rattle through his bones, tremble in his hair, and shake the very ground he walked on, but yet, he knew it was something he couldn't hear with his ears.

Immediately upon hearing the voice, Joshua looked up and recognized the pinprick of light that seemed to quaver every time the voice spoke.

Joshua dropped to his knees, staring at the pinprick.

"No! I told you! No! Leave me alone! I don't want to be your prophet!" Joshua shouted balling his fists at the pinprick.

Joshua... Why do you resist so? the point of light quaked.

"Because, I just want to live and die. Why can't I do that?"

You can.

"But not as a 'prophet.' I just want to be left alone."

Joshua, this is not my plan

"Did you bother to consult those whose rights you're infringing on when you made these plans?"

I offer you everything. Joshua thought for a moment.

"This is the third time you've asked. Why do you keep pressuring?"

Joshua. The light quaked a little more violently. This is the final time. Deny me, and you see this disease through to its finished. It has been here for three years, and there have been no fatalities. How long do you think this sickness will last?

"Well then I'll just--"

YOUR HAND WILL BE STAYED, the light quaked with frightening finality. Joshua thought, and noticed for the first time that here, his hands were again olive, his joints were free from ache, and he could see light for the first time in a year.

Joshua the light trembled softly, you will be healed.

Joshua hunched over onto the floor, and pressed his fists into his eyes. The one thing he knew he had to be he wanted to run from most. Joshua whispered.

"Yes."

Joshua jolted upright in his bed, and looked around the room in confusion. His bed was too warm, and the room was too dark. He threw off the covers and walked over to the window and opened the shades. Light poured onto his face for the first time in a year. He sat on the bed, and ran his hand through his hair. He needed a shower and he could smell it. He caught something out of the corner of his eye and saw his bandages that had been used to cover over half of his body sitting in a pile.

Joshua pulled the IV from his arm, put on his pants and walked to the cafeteria. He really needed a burger.

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