A New Pestilence

Can't focus in my quarters. There's three of us in there. Too crowded. I can string thoughts together here. Not many - a few gems on a necklace.

We are afflicted by not one, but two diseases. They tussle, fighting. A cure needs to kill them both.

I thought, maybe, if I poison one - the weaker one - then the other will eat it. Wither. Die.

I think I know where the weak one resides. I hear it whisper in my left ear. I will dropper the toxin there. Let it feed. Yum. Let the toxin spread.

Shush! The chicken and the master come again. I must look busy.

Busy busy busy busy busy.