This whole lockdown thing is awful. Millions of people, including me, are all stranded from their families. People are dying faster than they have since the Black Plague, and I can’t make it home to Florida to see my family until this virus dies off. But who knows if that will ever happen?

I’m pacing my apartment back and forth, debating on whether or not to drive all the way to Florida tonight. Not that it would be safe, but when has love ever not been dangerous? I’m also trying to keep myself sane, but now we’re just splitting hairs.

There is a knock on my door that genuinely perturbs me. Why is someone knocking on my door? And who is it?

Hesitantly, I slide the lock back and barely crack open the door. There is someone standing on the other side of the hallway, about six feet away, hands over their mouth and nose as if they don’t have a mask.

“Can I help you?” I ask, already feeling like there are radioactive particles crawling up my sinuses.