It’s been a little bit more than a year since the store closed, and a little less than a year since I started working as a contact tracer.
While everyone else can talk about returning to normal, I don’t have that option.
My normal is gone. Long gone.
Not only gone, but erased - as if it were never there.
This year has been a collection of days, weekends, appointments, and family gatherings that blur like the view from the window of a commuter train.
I’m not sure where the train’s going. I’m just sitting.