Thank you, as always to Rochelle for providing us with Friday Fictioneers.
I Feel Fine
Bud says, “We are self-sufficient. They laughed at us when the world was cool. Who’s laughing now?”
I nod. I drop off a load of potatoes at the farmer’s market although everyone’s hiding from the virus. Who’s in for mashed potatoes? Potato and leek soup? No one.
“Wash your hands 22 seconds,” Bud says. “God speed.”
At home, I feed the dogs, check the generator fuel. Determine I have enough bottled water, canned foods, sanitizer. Lastly, I check my ammunition and clean my gun.
The radio plays REM’s “It’s the End of the World.” And I feel fine.