THE SEVENTH DAY OF DENGUE

A week of dengue fever-induced dreams and hallucinations leave Ben grappling with the painful reality of Ecuadorian rivers and his own mortality.

Ben Stookesberry

FRIEND OF THE FEARLESS Lying down, I find no relief. My joints scream, “FUCK,” and I can’t sit up. “How many Tylenol have I taken?” My sore stomach says too many. I’m freezing, and the shivers of “breakbone fever” are shattering my thoughts into hallucinations. How else can I explain this uncontrollable thirst in this dry river bed? Suddenly, my body is imbricated in boulders. I crawl up to a two-liter bottle of Doctor Pepper, which is my only drink. "You’re in a shitty airport hotel. That dry river bed is just a bad dream,” I tell myself until the muscle spasm once again kicks my attempt at rationality. Down again in that dry river bed, I find residual water. I drink until I choke on battery acid. My reasons…

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Kayak Session (Digital) - 1 Issue, Summer 2024

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