Sacha battled through the day at the office because one of the things she prided herself on was her work ethic, and especially when she was sick it came nudging up against one of her other points of pride: her stubbornness. But she couldn't help noticing the looks of sympathy and concern passed to her by her colleagues -concern for her, and for themselves; the infection rate in the office had been estimated at as high as thirty percent by some which meant there were still plenty of people in the office hoping that they wouldn't be the next to get sick. Sacha had been one of them. They'd all been one of them, once; now the office echoed with coughs as resonant and repetitive as a dawn chorus.

The path of the sickness was just as predictable: Sacha had heard it from enough people over the last month or so. A little bit of a sore throat, nothing too serious, then just lots and lots of coughing. Not even any discomfort to speak of, though for some it was worse. One wag in the office had dubbed it 'the piglet 'flu' - because after the near-panic of the swine 'flu the winter before, this year's sickness was almost laughably mild. But nonetheless, it was something you'd want to avoid if possible.

Recently more and more of the company's projects had been government tenders, which provided some measure of security in the current global circumstances but which also meant that now, building up to an election, there wasn't so much to do. There was so little to do, in fact, that Sacha's boss took to wandering the floor of the office, as if he could walk among the paupers unrecognised, and when he passed Sacha he said:

"Oh no, not you too!"

He was the kind of boss who made a point of knowing everybody's name, and their place in the company, and he knew that Sacha was one of his more important employees: that she'd get the job done, whatever it might be, and would do it with a minimum of fuss and would do it in good time. She wasn't exactly, in corporate parlance, 'a team player' - but her record protected her from that usually poisonous accusation.

"I'll be fine" Sacha managed to say between coughs. "It's just a little thing."

"And better to get it now, if you have to get it all" her boss mused, reflecting on the company's work-load. He knocked on her desk, as if concluding an important but informal conversation - perhaps this was what constituted a conversation with him, Sacha wondered - and continued on his way. He, too, was spooked by Sacha's sudden sickness. As if it's the plague, Sacha thought. He's going to retreat to his castle and lock the gates for a while. But another spate of coughing interrupted her train of thought.