Challenge of the Week CLXXIII
The Antidote. To what? Anxiety perhaps. Or loneliness. Or some other poison. Write about an antidote. Fiction or non-fiction, poetry or Prose.
I'm confined. I'm bored. I'm frustrated. I'm scared. This lockdown seems to have lasted for a lifetime already. I know! I could go shopping online. I skim Amazon. Clothes maybe. But what's the point of getting all dressed up with nowhere to go? Makeup ditto. Sporting gear? Nah. Wasn't an athlete before all this; having fancy jogging pants won't turn me into one. Reading? Fine, but my eyeballs are sore from reading already. Tools? No, that's my husband's territory. Daren't encroach. Then I have a vision of some poor worker toiling in that Amazon warehouse, risking his health for me to accumulate more crap I don't need and to make Jeff Bezos richer. I'm ashamed. Never mind. I'll put my mask on and walk the dog instead.