Apocalypse: COVID 19, A Diary

She could vaguely make out her reflection in the thick plexiglass barriers. This was the new normal now, stores attempting to protect cashiers from the possibly-infected patrons. First she saw it at her local bulk warehouse membership store. She had tried to avoid this place for two weeks, but it was time. Parking was plentiful, so there at least was that- until she saw the line. Like a disjointed snake it ran around the building after the switchbacks near the front. People were calm, many in masks and gloves. She had neither and felt naked. There was a designated cart wiper-downer person who handed her the extra large cart, typical of these warehouse stores. She always felt a bit ridiculous shopping there, being that there were only two people in her home-a package of toilet paper lasted them months. The line would ripple forward then stop. They were only letting in a certain amount of people at a time. Empty pallets had been placed strategically to form the maze of switchbacks fun...

She was getting better at holding her breath. As people passed her, she sucked in air, held it, counted to 10, then released. Discouraged, she scrunched her eyes, nose, and lips together: she could still smell some people. A runner passed her on the walking path, shirtless, dripping with sweat, in the middle of an ethereal cloud of his own deodorant. She had held her breath for the recommended 10 seconds, and he was far past her when she finally inhaled, but there it was. A pretty yet manly combination of synthetic scents meant to mask his pungent body odor. Which would be worse? His actual odor, or this mix of sweat and menthol, with a hint of expired Brut cologne? She could see people gathered at the basketball courts and at the outdoor workout area again. They were definitely not keeping with the six-feet requirement of social distancing. A new story appeared that detailed a church choir that, in their devotion to their faith, had defied the social distancing rules and came together...

It felt good to clean. It was Sunday, and though the titles of the days of the week were now meaningless, she decided to stick to an imaginary schedule in order to keep grounded to reality. It was a thin string, like that of an orb spider, a silky thin but strong anchoring “bridge line”- her only connection to what used to be called “life.” So she would pretend that this Sunday, like every Sunday, contained the last remaining moments of the weekend, so she would clean. Prepare the house for the week. Wash her clothes. Make her bed. The latter was proving difficult. Each day she thought about making her bed. There had been articles written on how making one’s bed was the key to having a successful and focused day, but she just had never been a bed maker. She loved naps. And her cats were always snuggled up and nested in the bed anyway. Who would know? It’s not like she had people over regularly. And now… well… no one would see the inside of her abode, maybe for months to come. Still, s...

She was losing track of time again. The days of quarantine folded in on themselves like paper origami fortune tellers- the ones tweens played at slumber parties. Pick a number, pick a color, pick a number, pick a color: QUARANTINE. Pick a number, pick a color, pick a number, pick a color: VIRUS. Pick a number, pick a color, pick a number, pick a color: SCHOOL IS STILL OUT. Pick a number, pick a color, pick a number, pick a color: STAY 6 FEET AWAY. Pick a number, pick a color, pick a number, pick a color: EMPTY SHELVES. Pick a number, pick a color, pick a number, pick a color: FLATTEN THE CURVE. Every day was the same. Blurred; smeared; a mirage. She watched some videos on her internet machine. In one a doctor explained how to clean groceries. She had been doing it all wrong. Don’t use reusable bags- they can carry the virus for up to three days. Soak all fruit in a soapy bath, then scrub each piece for twenty minutes. Wipe down all thick boxes, or take out the inner bag and tos...

The curve wasn’t flattening. Everyone knew what this meant, as experts from the beginning encouraged people to shelter in place and to self-quarantine if exposed to a contagious person. The idea was that the less people moved around and interacted with one another, the less the virus could spread. And this virus loved, more than anything else, to spread. It shed gobs of contagious material for days before a person had a hint that he was infected. One attorney from upstate New York went into New York City and gave it to at least 100 people before he knew his fate. Now New York had over 450 deaths and over 26,000 confirmed cases. The curve was still on its upward odyssey, and she imagined it was snickering and thoroughly enjoying every moment of its escapade. There was no national order to shelter in place, so the states were in charge of their own curve. Some states are going to burn, she thought. There were governors who just didn’t want to “look” like China, or California- those plac...

Her country was now number one. The overconfident residents always thought of themselves as the best, as better than people in other countries, as the most civilized and forward thinking: the smartest. In the past this may have been true to a certain extent, but in the past few decades other countries had surpassed her own in certain areas. But now the country was back on top. Except this time it had earned a new inglorious title: country with the most confirmed cases of the virus- 85,991. This was even more than the country in which the disease originated, and in which there were over a billion residents. Her country was home to only 350 million. The spread was nowhere close to being contained. She saw a photo on the internet machine of health care workers in their scrubs, but they had added a new layer- these workers, who were out their on the front line, risking life and limb for the sick- were wearing some kind of bastardized personal protective gear in the form of black crinkly tr...

The “Ice Palace” or “Palacio de Hielo,” a lively and merry place for local ice skaters, now housed the mounting bodies that had succumbed to the virus. Spain was in the thick of it. The small country already surpassed China in number of deaths from the disease: 3,647. Only its nearby neighbor, Italy, had more deaths. The Spanish morgues were overrun- they didn’t have the capacity to hold all of the dead bodies, and there was no place for them to go. She imagined what that must be like. Did they even have enough coffins? Were they even using boxes of some sort? Or where the bodies just stacked up in body bags? Many of these people probably died alone and in isolation. They say it feels like drowning outside of water. Gasping for whatever air the lungs could strain to breathe in, while the chest burned. A simple speck of dust could spark an extremely painful cough. Health officials described what happens in the lungs, as a result of the extreme pneumonia, being like “ground glass.” Tha...

Her husband had been secretly feeding the feral cats “cakes”- a whole can of wet food, sprinkled with Temptations. She needed more cat food. It felt good to drive. She pressed the gas on her way there and felt the acceleration purr up from her toes to her heart; she missed driving. She drove into the parking lot of her favorite store called Target, which was attached to a mall. This was the same mall she used to go to when she was a teenager to hang out with friends and eat piles of french fries in greasy-slick paper boats. It was funny that she still shopped at the same place. But the Target, this “Run and Done” store, so the slogan said, was her favorite store because one could find everything from gardening supplies, to fresh groceries, to lip balm. The parking lot stood empty with only a few cars sprinkled in the spaces. The cops were there. What were they doing there? The mall was closed. Wood barriers stood upright, blocking the entrance to the rest of the mall, and two cop cars ...

She discovered a shopping cart graveyard. She had been on her now illegal bike ride- the mayor shut down all trails and parks in response to the people not being able to socially distance appropriately- meaning kids were still partying and playing team sports on the beach- so the entire city was punished. But her trail had escaped the eyes of local law enforcement- at least for the moment. Less people were riding their bikes or walking, and some were starting to don masks. The path followed the Sweetwater River down to the bay- a river filled with ducks, doves, fish, squirrels, snakes, and a population of the homeless who had made camp on the banks for years. Graffiti covered the freeway underpasses; she made sure to ride quickly through those spots. The graveyard appeared on the left: twisted metal and plastic, red and gray, reaching up through the flowing water towards the sky. Some were on their sides, some prone, some were supine, like helpless spindly animals taking their last bre...

Bubbles from her bath popped softly in her ears, like melting Rice Krispies in warm milk. The day had been uneventful, the same virus continued to spread, and the quarantine remained in place. Early in the day the Orange Leader had been on the telescreen in what turned out to be a freak hour-and-a-half press conference where he rambled on and on about how no one had complimented him on all the work he has been doing to fight the virus even though three weeks ago he said it was a hoax and how he was so rich and how he wasn’t as rich anymore since he had become the Leader and he should again be thanked for not being so rich in order to serve the country. A reporter informed him that one of his archenemies had been infected and he responded with an irony “Oh really? That’s too bad.” His excitement, like that of a demon spawn who had finally cornered his prey, was palpable. He tried to play it off, but it was too late. The Great Leader had in front of a televised audience of millions, had ...

“Weekends” were now just, “days.” She didn’t bother emerging from her bed until after what would normally be lunchtime, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like she had anything planned for Saturday. Or Sunday. The urgency of time had ceased to exist. There wasn’t even the Leader’s press conference to cringe at, or evening news to tune in to. Time. Some scientists theorized that time simply IS. It’s only humans that perceive time as a linear phenomenon with a yesterday, today, and tomorrow. They say that if you fall into a black hole, past the event horizon, you would be stretched out into an infinite wet noodle, and as you gazed out into space you would see all of time at once, there was no beginning, middle, or end. She always thought that would be an excellent way to die. But today she realized that the days were becoming especially noodly, stretched out. Is this what retirement will feel like? *** On her daily walk she found herself talking to the trees in her head. She w...

Her state was officially now on lock-down. Early in the previous evening the state leader interrupted all telescreens for the announcement. There were 40 million Californians, and 56% of them could become infected in the next eight weeks. That meant 25.5 million people. Only “essential” businesses could remain open. Shit was getting real. *** Sometimes when a person walks closely to another, you can breathe them in. You don’t do it on purpose, but you inhale and discover an unfamiliar scent or taste, and you realize that you have sucked another person’s exhale into your own lungs. You feel strange having digested molecular parts of someone else, but there is nothing that can be done, you can’t cough it up or vomit it out with a finger. She had gone out for a walk- still allowed though everyone had to practice social distancing as they did it. Six feet. That’s how far one had to keep away from every other person. The trail she used had a wide berth for most of the path, but there were ...

Her eyes flicked open from the nightmare. One look at her internetwatch and she realized she had only exchanged one hell for another. In her dream she had been in a hospital, her gown covered in blood. But the doctor was a villain. She had done something to him, crossed him in some way, and he was enjoying his revenge. He threw her on the ice cold floor, and injected her with something that made her entire body useless- all except her mind. She screamed an invisible scream over and over, and over. He laughed and walked away, locking the door behind him. There were other patients in gore-soaked gowns, and their faces were nothing but a wrap of skin with only dark smears where facial features had been. All were frozen in various states of movement. Some on stretchers, some half sitting-up. One slumped against a wall. It smelled of disinfectant. While wiping off the sweat from her clothes (the same ones from the previous day of course) she began seriously contemplating reduci...

She awoke to her phone ringing. Her mother was calling from WalMart. Did she want her to pick up some eggs? YES! Sweet Jesus I have been saved! Wait what the hell is mom doing out AGAIN? There was no stopping this woman, and she knew it. 15 minutes later, she was cooking breakfast with real eggs after yelling from her doorway, “Go home mom! Sanitize! Stop going outside, it’s a pandemic!” She knew her words fell on deaf and dogged ears. *** Walking into the bedroom she heard the familiar pitter-patter-pitter-patter of floofy feet on the hardwood- it was her most fluffy, black and white cat who used every opportunity to beg for food. She leaped up onto the dresser then up into the closet where all the cat furniture was housed. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew? Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew? Whenever she feigned starvation she used her tiniest of mews. She tried with all her might to morph back into the tiny kitten she once was, in order to maximize cuteness, and in ...

She spent most of the day in a dream. Literally. She thought she would make the most of each day and even got up early to do chores in an attempt at normalcy. But the combination of the sunny midday lull mixed with the diminished effects of her morning tea resulted in a “quick” lie down that turned into a 3 hour slumber. When she awoke a new man was speaking on the teletube. He was smaller and thinner in stature than the orange man with slightly graying slicked back hair, wearing a dark suit. He spoke in sentences, which was a pleasant change from the orange man, and she was glad she had voted for him. Oh no. What was he saying about schools? The entire school year? Several emotions swirled in her body all at once- She felt a cautious joy, anxiety, amazement, bewilderment, and a slight amusement if parents would now be teaching their own children. A teacher friend called her in pure hysterics. What about the students? The seniors? What about US? Will we get paid? Will we have to fi...

She did a trade with her mother: baby carrots for two rolls of paper towels. Who knew that nubbed carrots would become a form of bartering currency? They had told the elderly not to emerge from their homes, but her mother didn’t care, and there was no convincing her otherwise. She was stubborn sometimes to a fault, and now she knew where she got that trait herself. At least the pandemic got her mother to actually use her cell phone. She called to report from Walmart, that there were no eggs to be found. Fuck. Her store of choice to attempt to fulfill this mission was the local Sprouts Market. It was a small Sprouts, so she thought perhaps it would have been spared from the insanity of toilet-paper-hoarding. She approached the parking lot and was immediately relieved to see plenty of parking. Everything looked normal, though there did seem to be a little more than the usual amount of customers. She made a bee-line for the eggs, only to find the refrigerated shelving covered in a tan ca...

Three brown eggs innocently stared up at her from their grey, cardboard nests. She knew what this meant. Two eggs for breakfast today, but what about tomorrow? There were oats, but it wasn’t the same. Pretending that “running to the store” was still an action one could do in a brief amount of time, she cooked her eggs and sipped a warm cup of green tea. But her subconscious wouldn’t let her enjoy her morning. *** The cat was hacking on the floor. He attempted to “clean” up his embarrassing mess by dragging her slippers through it; she was too late to stop him. Now her last, thinning roll of paper towels mocked her from the counter-top. You need me, it taunted in her ear. She knew it was true. She found the floor spray bottle and unfurled the last of the paper towels. The cardboard core looked so bare, so alone in its holder. She knew what this meant. Though she knew what the next day would require, she decided to enjoy the rest of the day. It was her first...

She awakened to the cry of the neighbor’s illegal rooster, mixed in with the crinkling of a 20 pound feline rummaging through a sack. Was the pandemic a dream? Her hand-held internet machine told her no. Was the last 3 1/2 years just a nightmare- a piece of cheese churning in the belly while asleep? No. The leader was still alive-though rumors were spreading now of his own infection. She could only hope. She counted each luxurious roll of toilet paper and wondered: how long they could hold out? *** A man was speaking. He had cotton-white hair and beady, grey eyes squinting into black from the TV cameras, flitting back and forth like a crow eyeing her next feast. His mouth moved and lies fell forth. “Remarkable comments,” the telepeople said. “Extraordinary.” She called them lies and wondered when the telepeople would too. He was standing next to another woman. She wondered if Mother approved. DING DONG, DING DONG, DONG DING DING DONG The doorbell? But who could...