I don’t know if some dude ate a bat or not, but I’m definitely about to lose my job. Welcome to the pandemic. I’m eating a cheeseburger, waiting for my Jell-O to congeal in the fridge. I found the little red box in the back of the cabinet earlier when I was making an inventory. That’s what you’re supposed to do in times like this right? Get water, make lists, and find God or at least hope to.

Currently I’ve only found a belief in science. Of course, they are still trying to deal with this whole thing. My neighbor, the liberal went out and bought a gun, so we really are in chaos. I’m not sure he knows what a magazine is, but God bless him. Right? I haven’t checked ammo buying off my to do list yet. Haven’t done much since I left work Tuesday and realized I’m probably not going back for a while. It kind of dawned on me a couple hours ago, so I made burgers on the stove and Jell-O because I had the stuff and eating seemed like the best thing to do. I’m not hopeless or paranoid enough to think this is my last meal, but I figure I got to use the buns before they mold. Plus, I better buy more bread. Another thing on the checklist. Mom used to do it every time they said it would snow. Grab the bread and milk. Now it’s like grab enough for two months instead of two days, but neither keeps that long. I won’t succumb to buying dried milk. I won’t do it.

The Jell-O is taking longer than I thought. I’m still waiting. Waiting and waiting.

A.C. Bohleber is a writer located in Nashville, TN. She has her MFA from The College of Charleston, and she graduated from the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga where she received the Ken Smith Fiction Award and a degree in Creative Writing. Her work has been published with Weasel Press, Treehouse Magazine, and other journals.