I don’t want the quarantine to end

by Regis Boff

I like being quarantined.
Everyone I love is now so bored they seek me out by phone with their drained enthusiasm about everything else. Affection in this new world is easy pickings.
My wife now works from home. We have quickly reaffirmed we made the right choice thirty years ago. Love this solid is a medal.
I have fixed everything in our house or hired now desperate handymen to do it. The ever-deteriorating physical world brings me new projects and keeps me nimble. Men are untroubled with ships that are heavy sea ready.
On FaceBook, I have three friends that grew up with me on my street in Pittsburgh. I have a bunch more from grade school or high school. They are all recent additions but are very valued. We talk about our childhood and have no desire ever to meet. I am curious about who I was then. I know enough about myself now.
I have a nice new car, and I mostly sit in it. There is nowhere to drive it. I realized “open” was my chief destination before the virus.
I don’t walk anywhere. Walking, like working, has never had appeal to me. Somehow I learned this early in life. I don’t remember where. I suspect it had something to do with LSD. Anyway, walking is now vaguely frowned upon, which suits me fine.
I order shit every day from Amazon. Jeff Bezos and I are friendly. He wants to come over, but I avoid that.
I order a lot of candy that I liked growing up, Smarties, Double bubble chewing gum, and root beer barrels by the case. I adore deliveries and have bought a camera security system for my driveway. I know when they come,( originally it was not for the candy but because my car got stolen). Both the dog and I get excited by the visits.

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