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Day 1

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 be brave enough to venture into another’s sacred property at this time of containment?

The gardener.

“Hello! You want me to mow the back too today?”

She stood there slack-jawed in pure astonishment. The world was still spinning. This one drop of
normalcy snapped her back into a more real, reality. He stood there in his grey flannel and work boots and pants, weed-wacker at the ready. He smelled of dirt.

She stammered back, “Yes! Sure!” and went to move the cars for him.

***

When he was done he insisted on a handshake and a hug. Hadn’t he heard? Didn’t he KNOW? She tried to pull away as is always the ritual with him- she hated others invading her personal bubble even on non-pandemic days- but he got her. She tried not to think of herself as a racist asshole as she showered and sanitized.

From the bathroom window she inhaled a sharp, crisp aroma: decapitated blades of grass. Maybe
everything would be okay.

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