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.