“And you know where the first place I’ll travel will be?” I asked.
“Where?” Maga’s voice was breathless with anticipation.
“To see you!”
“Really? Do you mean it?”
“I do! Of course, I do.”
We both sighed with longing and imagined a world where it’d be safe to visit with each other. Or, that’s what I was doing.
Maga was busy trying to orient my location so she could better picture who she was talking to. I detailed my town, my apartment, my work, etc.
“You mean you don’t go into the office?” she asked.
“Nope. Not since March.”
“You don’t mean it.”
“Sure do.”
“This is nasty business. The germs.”
“I agree.”
“I’ve got my mask right here,” Maga said.
“You do?”
“Yes. I’m holding it in my lap.”
“Did you just get back from the cafeteria?”
“Yes. A little bit ago. And then my caregiver said we should go out for a walk or go sit on the terrace.”
“Oh, gosh. I don’t mean to keep you. Go do that.”
“Well, wait a minute. Let me have your…” she fumbled for the words, “your phone number.”
I provided it. She promised to call me back after dark. We’ll see what this spooky season brings.
[Editor’s note: it’s been 2 hours. I don’t think I’m getting a return call…]
Abigail Mumford 