“Someday, this will be over– only remembered like some half-felt and fading nightmare.”
These were Joe’s thoughts as he trudged along the sidewalk holding onto his walker. Another trip to the pharmacy for his medicine, only these days he was in riot gear. A heavy plastic mask, plastic gloves and layers of washable jeans and coat to be sanitized when he arrived back home.
Joe was still a viable gentleman for his ninety years and insisted on living alone downtown and using his walker to get anywhere. If it wasn’t within walking distance, he didn’t need it.
The door was held open for him by the medical guard at the entrance who nodded hello. “Just living the dream, eh Joe?” Their eyes showed their smiles.
The Bag Lady 
Good one Cheryl.
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Very well done. It’s the hope I needed to read.
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It’s good to see that he’s so determined and competent
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