Maybe the end of (the Corona Chronicles)

story 1 - The end of the world 

It’s my 16^th birthday and this quarantine is the end of the world.

Think about it. No driving to school with my new license. No school day with balloons, flowers, somebody bringing me a coffee drink, teachers letting me slide and everybody saying, “Happy Birthday.” No ditching campus with friends to get a decent lunch. No Starbucks run after school. No party with my best friends. No staying out late with my boyfriend and not getting in trouble from my parents because it’s my DAY.

Like I said, it’s the end of the world.

story 2- Long before

My Grandma, your Great-Great Grandma, she told me. About 100 years ago, long before you were born, the virus came and life shut down. Everybody strayed home, didn’t go to work, school, restaurants or shopping.

She said it wasn’t that tough until Grandpa got sick. He was tested and she was praying that it wasn’t the virus. It was. He had to go to the hospital. No visitors, not even Grandma. She got updates saying he was fading and she knew before the final call arrived.

I can tell you the sadness of loss never left her.

story 3 - Never returned 

“…sharp knife and cheap booze, maybe drugs. So much blood.” The EMT shook his head while transferring the patient to the ER staff.

“But, he cut off his own hand?”

“He mumbled something about, “How do you know when the germs are gone?” I think he passed out trying to cut off the other one. Wouldn’t have made it here if his sister hadn’t checked in on him.”

“I think she’s brought him in before. Some mental health thing.”

“Sad stuff. She told us he’s never really returned from that tour of duty in Afghanistan.”

story 4 - “The Villa” 

Always knew I came to “The Villa” to die. The virus ramped up that reality. We’ve been designated a hot spot. I want to see my kids and grandkids. They say no one’s coming or going.

We fly the clubhouse flag at half-mast when a resident dies. Usually happens once a week. Seems like it’s down more than up now.

Schultz started a pool. You pick an hour block each day predicting when someone will die. I made a couple hundred bucks on Tuesday.

Sounds morbid, but wait until you hit this stage, see what you do for fun.

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

Too much pain (the Corona Chronicles)

I always believed in America, God and country. Had to protect our rights.

Trusted my President. He knew what was best and would take care of us. He said, “Don’t fear.” “Liberate.” “Go back to work.” My soul raged. Crazy liberals weren’t shutting down our country.

Covid-19 infected my husband, fear, hospital, pain and so alone. Then our granddaughter. My secret favorite. Same result, only much more pain.

This is beyond what I can take. I refuse to be next. Thanks for your love and support. I pray my leaving this way doesn’t cause you too much pain.

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

Can’t be (the Corona Chronicles)

It was a perfect day for a parade.

The organizer, a local restaurant owner, was quoted, “We’re hard working Americans. We have our rights. We need to work.”

Cars, trucks and tractors were covered in red, white and blue. They stretched for a mile slowly making their way through town honking horns and waving to the cheering crowd.

The crack of the gun was barely audible. Cars abruptly stopped and whispers drifted down the street.

“Someone’s been shot.”

“A kid.”

“Not Amy, she’s only three.”

“It can’t be.”

Sirens and lights filled the street as the hushed crowd dispersed.

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

Enough (the Corona Chronicles)

Reality TV crews followed the Newton’s, drooling for the pain and grief of quarantine life.

Stereotypes were everywhere. Bess, Mom a cutthroat executive. Jake, the unemployed closeted gay Dad. Sammi, the (secretly) pregnant drop out. Drake, the cute, funny son. And Fritzie, the loveable dog.

Week one drew viewers as the family adjusted to being all together, all the time. Ratings jumped week two as outbursts edged near violence. After episode three the show was cancelled.

A national critic noted, “It’s bad enough we’re all living this every day. We don’t need it jammed down our throats at night.”

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

Essentials? (the Corona Chronicles)

Trying to be stealth I parked in the back and wore a mask. Maybe I should’ve gone to another store.

Grabbed eggs, milk and bread; everybody needs eggs, milk and bread. Tried to think what else would look good. Dodged a neighbor with a quick corner-aisle redirection move. Dumped random stuff in the cart. Went to the checkout with the “college kid” who could care less about me or what I bought. 

225 dollars, geeze. Better than being embarrassed by family and friends for violating the Governor’s Orders when I only needed ice cream…you know, essentials. And the beer.

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.