She wasn’t sure exactly what the cause was. All she knew was that it was driving her crazy. This itchy skin for which she could find no relief. Was it her laundry detergent? The changing seasons? Maybe she was dehydrated? Or maybe she was just getting old and this was one more thing she was going to have to accept and deal with. She really did not want to go down that road of thought.
So instead she scratched until her skin was raw and burning. She slathered on the best organic lotions and serums she could find and afford. She guzzled water by the gallon, or at least that is what it seemed like to her and to her poor overworked bladder.
Yet nothing brought relief. She could still feel the skin drying out and what felt like thousands . . . no, millions of tiny bug feet marching across her skin causing her fingers to find their way back to her leg, her sides, her arms.
“Maybe…” she thought as she scratched, feeling the burn of her skin which also felt strangely good and satisfying, “maybe I’m becoming a zombie!”