Another day another discover prompt. Again just sticking to free writing and seeing what comes out. Enjoy.
Trigger warning, my coping mechanisms have always been going off into worst-case scenario extremes and dark humour. This is no exception and is me working through some COVID-19 worries. If that’s not something you’re in a headspace for that maybe find a different more hopeful post. Maybe my piece from the other day, Open.
The lights all blurred together and they speed down the nearly empty streets, searching for a sign for normal.
But normal had changed, for good. Empty storefronts lined the side of the road. They could have reopened now if the people who ran them had lived. Unfortunately, the blite had taken its toll.
Things had closed down for over a year, no one had dared go out, and those who did contract it. Those who survived were put on an endless loop of sick to healthy to sick again until they eventually succumb. Those who past the first round was considered lucky by the end.
They were in search of an open restaurant, or bar, or hell they would take icecream shop at this point. Something where they could eat out for the first time in months. But everything seemed to have been closed down, many shops had memorials set up out front, and you knew those weren’t going to be open again anytime soon. Some had been damaged or looted in one of the food shortages. Others had simply gone out of business.
They had been driving for hours, trying to find something, anything, open, but all they had been met with so far was empty streets.
“Maybe we should just go home” came a voice from the back seat. “I’m hungry, I can’t wait to eat anymore!”
“Give me ten more minutes Hunny, if we don’t find anything by then we’ll go home”
The truth was, they had already started to head back home, she knew in her gut their search would be fruitless. But she hadn’t wanted to scare him and she was enjoying the feeling for fresh spring air on her face through the open car windows. Even going for an evening drive had been banned in the peak of the crisis. Just driving was nice, the freedom after months of lockdown was nice.
The survivours’ guilt, on the other hand, not so much.
“We’ll try again tomorrow, maybe someone will have been able to open up by then. Let’s go home and make some pasta for now”
“Okay mom!” came a sing-song tone. Pasta was his favourite after all.
They drove the last block home in silence, enjoying the sounds of the streets, which were a little louder than the day before. She wondered how long it would be for normal to come back, and if normal ever would return. He listened for bird sounds and enjoyed the new experience of driving around town.
Enjoyed this one and might dive into this a little more given time during COVID, though I’m sure me and every other would-be SF writer so I will have to see if I can develop it into something unique.
Memos To My Amygdala 