I reported for my inoculation, and found it not unpleasant, as Nurse Fairywren is a comely practitioner of the healing arts. The good Doctor provided an nice dram of absinthe to make the medicine go down, and advised I go home and get some rest. Professor Valeska had made mild suggestions that foregoing the injection and avoiding the general public during the flu season would be more efficacious. But I do enjoy a variety of experience, so I hazarded the dose.
I was a bit light headed on returning to my hammock, and felt a mild bit of fever, as well as a small amount of unaccustomed fatigue. I read a bit, then turned in; I suffered through vaguely troubling dreams. Upon waking the next morning, I found myself in a nest of hair, as all of mine had fallen out. A particular unattached sensation accompanied my waking, and a pronounced lack of appetite caused me to forgo my usual breakfast of coffee, eggs and grub-cakes. The greatest shock, more so than my sudden alopecia areata, was during my morning constitutional, for while shaving I noticed in the glass that my eyes had taken on a certain, well, unsound, appearance. It was almost as thought I had contracted an infectious form of albinism.
None of the dreaded Zombie Flu symptoms, other than an aversion to light, are manifest. O, well, there is some confusion. I have trouble navigating the streets of New Babbage as the ordinal directions make less sense. And I cannot remember my name…