FIRE AND ICE  

By Tessa Harvey


    Stefan was sweating and in great pain, writhing on his narrow camp bed in the sweltering heat of their tent. He knew he had to get to the small tent which gave privacy to the latrine...
    Then he tried to get back to his couch but could only crawl. Suddenly he collapsed in the seemingly molten heat. He lay on the burning burnished sand, hearing hurrying footsteps. "Stefan, I'm coming," Olga cried, trying to haul him upright. Oh, Stefan, please, what is happening?" She sounded anguished, and in some small corner of his mind the thought flickered that perhaps his marriage was not dead after all - though I soon will be, he thought. 
    Never had he felt so ill, though he had had food poisoning once before. Summoning help from the other workers, Olga quickly gathered their things. Most was already packed tightly in a small rucksack she wore most of the time. They headed for town. It was a long journey. Stefan was unconscious burning, shivering. 

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