One Flu Over the Cuckolds Nest. Competition Entry

"It looks divine. You must tell me where you got it".
It really did stand out. Most of the other guests were wearing the standard issue light blue, but this was a somehow inappropriate gold colour. Quietly the thought crossed her mind that it clashed with her desperately youthful red dress.
"That lovely little boutique just off the Kings Road. But I think they've sold out now. You might be able to find a fake copy on Ebay".
The idea of going on that horrible website, the modern day equivalent of a jumble sale, always made her feel sick. Though she'd managed to overcome the feeling when her private Doctor had run out of the anti-viral tablets he'd managed to supply long after the NHS had finally slipped from its flimsily balanced moorings perched between purse strings and heart strings. The pills, ordered from someone in Hong Kong she had never met but was happy to trust with her families health, had never turned up. She imagined a Customs Officer issuing them to his family, justifying his actions by remembering the money he'd lost on a cancelled week in Cancun.

Despite the frantic attempt to muffle it, an unmistakable sneeze cut through the conversations filling the room. In the immediately lowered noise startled heads turned to look, then quickly look away from, the culprit. Many hands touched the edge of their masks checking the seal. Slowly and awkwardly conversations resumed in an attempt to smother the fears this caused.
"He's always getting himself into a state. It's so awful to watch. I feel so sorry for his wife and have no idea why she puts up with it. Apparently she doesn't intend to for much longer. And I've heard shes been spending a little too much time with..."

Sneezing was the new drinking. To do so in public now held the same stigma as the more traditional falling down, distorted logic and raised voice once had. On the plus side there was no hangover. Though you still woke up thinking 'what did I do last night?' The answer being 'sneezed'. It was all part of the blurred bigger picture that had developed when the world had creakily turned on an unexpected axis during the last few months. Yesterday and all it once stood for was further away than ever. The new dawn bringing the new order. New stigmas had attached themselves like parasites to unsuspecting hosts.

A hastily-hired butler dressed in black, including a fittingly discreet mask, walked through the room spraying a canister from above his head. A usual scene these days and nobody bothered to notice him. Nor the similarly dressed young girl holding the canapes no one dared remove their masks to eat. The drinks still semi-flowed, usually sipped through a thin straw slid into the side of a mask.

Another sneeze issued from the same source. A discreet nod was aimed at the butler who put down his canister and headed assertively towards the culprit.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave Sir. Would you like me to retrieve your coat?"
A raised question voiced in response. An argument resembling last orders logic, based around 'Why?'
"You're making people uncomfortable with your behaviour Sir. I think it would be best if you followed me from the room Sir".

The cold air he'd been so forcibly introduced to on the other side of the door engulfed him as he wondered, yet again, why he'd found himself excluded. They were his friends once. His cheeks had been regularly air-kissed on his arrival, he could still hear the 'mwwwh' sound. Now his wife refused to accompany him socially as a result of his unsocial behaviour. At home she'd listen in disgust to the sneezes not quite muffled by the thick walls of his study where he was claiming to catch up on some work. He'd been on the uncomfortable camp bed that just fitted in next to his desk for months now. Interaction was at a premium and sourced by paying the going rate to diminishing returns, though he hoped tonight would be different. Checking the strip of yellow and white pills were still guarded in his pocket, he headed off down the street to where he knew he'd be asked if he was looking for business.

The negotiations were swift and, he eventually came to the conclusion, went in his favour. Only three pills were removed from their strip in exchange. Barefaced negotiated and masks removed. The temporary warmth left with the girl, replaced by the realisation this medicine no longer worked. What he sought was to overtake time itself, hurdle back to before. A return to, if not exactly days of glory, then at least palatable times.

Over the railings and into the dark he went, the path just visible away from the streetlights. Settling on a damp park bench where he started to unsettle himself with his thoughts. Through the internal noise a silence started to grow like weeds on a wall, unnoticed until its presence was unavoidable. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was missing to create the gap, identify what should be there. He sneezed and pulled his mask up. Eventually a thought made a sprint to the front of his mind. There were no planes blinking through the sky above his head. The dreams of escape grounded, the key to the crowded room thrown away and the edges sealed. Here he must remain.