“I’ll get you all the sweets you want!” I shout through the letterbox. “Just stay inside!”
I hear her shuffling her walker and picture her settling back down into the sofa groove. Disaster averted momentarily. I exhale.
I move to the window, aiming my gaze between the vase of sepia-tinged flowers atop the equally dead newspapers and the undisturbed bank of inhalers. A good eyeline is essential for the daily monologue.
“Do you know why you can’t go out?”
A mumble and flickering eyes: her customary reply as her hand trembles.
“There’s a virus Mum,” I repeat the well-rehearsed lines.
Katie Isham is a writer, teacher, drummer and mild adventurer from the UK. She writes a travel blog that is currently somewhat static.
