“Ah! If only it had been an earthquake! A good shake and that’s it… One counts the dead, one counts the living and the whole thing’s over ...
“Ah! If only it had been an earthquake! A good shake and that’s it… One counts the dead, one counts the living and the whole thing’s over and done with. But this rotten bastard of a disease! Even those who don’t have it, carry it in their hearts.”
It started when the rats began to die. Inside homes and on the streets, the nondescript town of Oran witnessed the furry creatures writhing and convulsing as they heaved their final breath. Initially, the numbers were small; enough only to give the townspeople pause – after all, notwithstanding this anomaly, theirs was a predictable town.
But the rats did not stop dying. Within a week, the numbers had run into the thousands. The whole town was pockmarked with their little bodies. Anxious, the people demanded the authorities act. Before they could, however, the number of deaths suddenly plummeted. The whole matter ended as suddenly and abruptly as it had begun. Everyone was relieved; things could go back to normal.
It is said that it takes millennia for order to be established; but only a week to usurp it. Days after the last rat had been cleared from the streets, the people began to die.
The Plague is a story...
