We’re trying (the Corona Chronicles)

“I… can’t… take… this… shit… any… more!”

“Come on Kris, language. Your Father and I are trying to make the best of these tough times. It’s hard on everybody.”

“I don’t care. I’m outa here. You don’t understand. I need some friends.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Keys and phone, NOW!”

“But…”

“Taking away friends and games seems the only way to get you to listen.”

“Come on!”

“This isn’t a conversation. Take that laptop, go to your room and get your school work done.”

“OK.” …Does she really have no clue what I’m going to be doing all morning?

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

Our soul knows (the Corona Chronicles)

Tuesday bleeds to Wednesday to Thursday to Friday to who knows or cares. Meals morph from a creative endeavor to scouring for palatable sustenance. TV, or more accurately streaming, drifts from overwhelming choices to muddled distractions. Whether shack or castle, home feels too crowded. And the Internet just plain sucks.

No matter our “creature comforts,” or our being in control our soul knows that we do not know what we have always known. And our commitments and connections will wonder, while bearing the ache and scars, long into the future.

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

Work with me, people (the Corona Chronicles)

“Let’s go. Wait, where’s Stevie?”

“I told you teenagers sleep late.”

“We’ve got six people. This chart shows the day in 30-minute increments. Each person has a designated workspace and device. We’ll have two breaks to evaluate progress and lunch together at Noon.”

“Sheesh, recruiter said I couldn’t join the Army without a diploma.”

“Why does Acie get the kitchen table and Marq the new IPad?”

“None of my friends have to work more than two hours a day. This sucks.”

“Work with me, people. This is the greatest opportunity for family connection we’ve ever had.”

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

Thanks for asking (the Corona Chronicles)

That first week was briefly idyllic, an extended vacation with the welcome absence of oft-repressive obligations. Week two brought a disorientating awareness of the shift in commitments and relationships that long justified my existence. By week three I was overwhelmed with the contradiction of increasing time and decreasing motivation. The fourth week brought ego bruises painfully revealing my inability to turn this chaos into some golden opportunity. 

By six, seven and eight I had devolved to maintaining basic needs while bargaining with the almighty for any possible escape.

Thanks for asking. So, how are you handling the quarantine?

Fiction 101: Tell a story in 101 words or less.

COVID-19 hits home(s) - (the Corona Chronicles)

This collection of "Fiction 101" short stories (101 words or less) are told from the perspective of six different kids reflecting on life in the daily reality of the Coronavirus.

Taylor

Mom takes care of old folks and Dad works at a farm. I watch the little ones.

It’s tough doing schoolwork when my brother and sister are crying, fighting or hungry. I try to keep up but sometimes the Wi-Fi goes out. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

I wish we could get food from school, but my parents are always working. I have to fix dinner for everyone every day. Why can't Grandma be with us?

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Sophie

During the virus thing we’re staying at Dad's. Mom works at the hospital, so she’s really busy. He lets us sleep late. We eat breakfast and check in with school, do some work, play video games and chat with friends. Dad focuses on his stuff until we get noisy.

At lunchtime Dad asks questions to check how we are doing. If we can make him think we’re caught up we get free time. There’s not much to do, so we get bored. I sure miss my friends.

                           

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Ash

Mom’s usually working on her computer or texting with friends. Dad keeps yelling on the phone, reminding people he’s the boss. At least when they are high they leave us alone. We’re lucky when we get take-out because neither of them cooks worth shit.

I try doing schoolwork. When I need help from Mom she’s busy with the baby. And Dad’s he tells me it’s my responsibility. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Joseph

Dad calls, “Up and ready.” for breakfast by 7. At 7:30 Mom starts with “Write about three things you learned yesterday.” Next Dad breaks from his work for Math and Science. Mom does PE before lunch. Then we get 30 minutes on our own, no screens. Next back to Mom for History. An old movie if we’re lucky.

We do afternoon chores until dinner. Finally 30 minutes of screen time, hopefully connecting with friends. The day ends with reading time and bed by 9:30.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Tony

Dad’s trying to teach his third graders while helping me do my Middle School stuff. He gets edgy quick sometimes. Mom’s gone a lot for her job at the clinic.

When Mom’s home she gets ticked at Dad because he gets frustrated with me. She says things like, “You’re a teacher.” or, “You need to be more patient.” Which kinda makes him more frustrated.

By the afternoon I’m glad we’re done with school. I sure miss my friends.

                           

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Jade

At Mom’s house she bitches about Dad leaving us. At Dad’s we hear about the “Assholes that took my job.” It’s best when he’s drunk and not hitting us. We’re lucky when they remember to get food on school pick-up days.

I try doing schoolwork each day. When I need help from Mom she’s on her phone. At Dad’s he’s usually in his room with his new girlfriend. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

What else could I do? (the Corona Chronicles)

I’ve been trapped in that apartment. Living on the first floor I hear everything.

Next door either that baby’s crying or the parents are arguing over whose turn it is to change diapers. Above me it’s always video games and movies at full volume. Maybe I should offer to buy them headphones.

But A-9 was always so quiet. No toilet flush. No slammed doors. No whisper of conversation. Sad that she got so sick and died so alone. I’m sorry, wish I’d known. I would have done something. You’re sure it was the virus, right, Officer?

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