I discovered upon waking that my mouth tasted like the green craft foam used to approximate moss and fungus. The plastic plant baskets on our stairway landing, when I was young, were filled with this foam, which I occasionally scraped with my fingernails, for reasons unknown to me. Ever after I have associated this taste with sick, and don’t know for sure whether it is my sick that caused the taste or this association. My sheets were soaked through with sweat, my underwear a tangled and wet rag. And yet I do not feel as if I were sick. I do not remember this sickness. It came upon me in the night, and left when I awoke, leaving only a foul taste in my mouth, a taste that reminds me of a time when I was young.