Wednesday, October 28th, 2020

All the tables are taken in the city square. People sit at each of them, eating, watching each other, or looking at their phones. The caregivers and elders have clustered near the main street. The butcher shop may be open. I see someone moving around behind the counter. I don’t see any customers. The rest of the shops are closed. I sit down on a bench near the edge with another omelette sandwich and a soda. Cats rest on the bench next to me. Fewer people move through the square than usual. It’s cool outside, but not chilly. In the morning, my laundry doesn’t appear until after I’m dressed. I dip into my shelf of less-used clothing and put on my vintage Electronic Frontier Foundation t-shirt. It looks pretty much like it did thirty years ago. No one that I see today notices it. Few here would know what it represents. It’s just right for the temperature today. In the square, when I’m done eating, I toss my trash in the bin and leave the bottle beside it. When I get home, I see a bicycle frame hanging from a tree in the front yard. I guess the paint is still drying. A grey cat runs up to me as I open the gate. It hops onto the fence, stares at me, then jumps back down. I take care not to trip over it as I walk to the back and down the stairs.