max martingale works at the dmv. there's a dog on the way to work that some crazy infects with rabies like they themselves infected themselves with rabies and then like drew their blood and injected the dog with an epipen and it bites max and he's out of commission for like a month but he survives and goes back to work but the tone has somehow shifted. he's spent the month walking around outside, so maybe he has a tan or his jacket smells. it was sure a weird month. he was followed more than once. second week he could barely leave the house and most days couldn't get up to get water until he really needed it. he could actually hear the neighbors gossiping about him and it took real effort not to make some kind of noise at them. he couldn't stand looking in the mirror. he felt so cooped up afterwards that he spent an entire week after that outdoors which probably helped the wound heal faster and he was back to work the monday after. the world felt bracingly threatening, like the pigeons are out to get him.

>It's Friday, you have to go to work on Monday. What do you get up to?
>>write in
>>write a poem or something
>>take a walk to the state line
>>go to the zoo
>>get some food, you didn't eat yesterday, though you're not hungry.