
It’s Flu Season – You Live In L.A. – You’re A Teenager – It’s 1964- Your Mom’s In Charge Of The Radio – You Lie There.
Flu season, just like clockwork – fever, chills, aching, sweats. You’ve just thrown up everything you’ve ever had in your stomach since you were five. Your hair hurts. The best you can do is just lie there, encased in blankets, drenched in sweat – alternately boiling and freezing and staring








