. . . and you were making your way home in the pitch dark one foul autumn night, and behind the church, you stumbled and fell into the open plague pit. For half an hour you squelched around the ghastly, yielding, foetid, slough of humanity, gingerly feeling here and there in vain hope of recovering intact the freshly baked quince and apple pie you dropped when you fell, because there would be no escape from direst retribution when Mother learnt of the pie from the widdow Perkins on the morrow, and presumed, against all reason, that you ate the whole precious thing yourself in one gluttonous gorging . . .
This post was edited by Stemmata949 at April 14, 2018 6:11 AM MDT
We people of European background have a sort of immunity against Black Plague. That is why we are here. Our ancestors survived the original plague, and we now drink clean water.
