Fever Streets

by Cayenne Souknary

The fever came at night. A baby’s shrill cry breaks through the quiet of the dark and shortly after her cry ends comes the tortured scream of her mother. This was only the beginning. Everyday, new bodies would be laid out on the streets. At first it was the elderly and young, but the stench of the dead was soon increased by bodies of all ages. The priests proclaimed the fever was a punishment from the gods. But even the holy men were cast onto the streets and in the night their blank eyes would stare into the darkness, the light of the moon reflecting so it looked like their eyes were glowing. In the dark, praying could be heard from every mother and wife and in the mornings, mournful screams could be heard for those that did not last the night. The coroner would come on Thursdays, until he didn’t.

Cayenne Souknary is a sophomore in the Creative Writing Department.