Fifty-five

QUARANTINE II

Trapped in his apartment, he felt life slipping away. Isolated. No income. Cellphone cutoff. No television. He couldn’t even pawn things, because the shops were closed. 

Bess became his caregiver. It was an unlikely pairing. She was 83. Spindly but strong. He was 24 and frail. Daily, she buttered his bread and scrambled his eggs. He liked a little bit of milk in them. She’d cut slices of oranges and lay them on the plate in a neat line. Sometimes a strawberry or two. She’d leave the food by his door and gently knock. 

Some days she’d leave a note. 

“You are loved.-Bess”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s