Come Together

BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog

Heashot of a white woman with grey and blond hair, head tilted to the side and smilingBy Kelly Thompson

I went and hugged my husband hard this morning. Long. We’ve been isolated, home, for 3 days.

He hugged back, hard.

“What was that about?” he asked.

I’m sixty-five. He’s sixty-nine.

“The world is acting like it’s going to lose us,” I said.

His smile was wry. As was mine.

Tender wry.

“Well, they’re losing us anyway,” he said.

“That’s true,” I laughed.

“Just not en masse, like this.”

The warnings to people over sixty have been repetitive and stern, especially early on. Now we see this affects us all. We will lose the young, too. Just not as many.

We decided to stay home before they told us to. We went to Costco and stocked up on canned goods, but left toilet paper for others. We’ve had groceries delivered and tipped two, three times as much. We are so fortunate we CAN stay home.

Bob Dylan…

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