1. Protozoa have taken over my right eye, leading to excruciating pain, sensitivity to light, and effective blindness (I walked into not one, but two poles last week). My center of gravity and depth perception are shit.
2. People regularly come into our house. Through the windows sometimes, probably also the doors. We never catch them, but they leave traces. We have no idea what they want, or who they are.
3. I have a surface wound on the back of my right hand a bit larger than a silver dollar. It started as a cyst, and then I drained it myself, drawing out a startling amount of pus. Quite a horror. Now it’s nearly healed.
4. I would probably kill you if I had to. I will probably never need to kill anyone. I don’t even dream about it. Killing you would not cure me, at all.
5. Illness drives me to madness and desperation. Health glimmers in the distance, a microscopic speck.