The grocery store still squatted. But the shadows seemed slower, which told her that night was on its way. She thought to herself that she was telling time more efficiently, using the cues the world gave her rather than that device with hands that now seemed unpredictable and chaotic. She always avoided them. They made people age, albeit slowly, and they eventually ended up as moaning husks. She wondered how long it would be until she turned into one, but avoiding their damning gazes would help slow the sprouting of grey hairs and rotting skin.
Her stomach rumbled in hunger. But she was nauseous too. The vaccine always killed her appetite.
Voices were close by. They bounced off the cars and fled the ground for the sky. She always fantasized about doing that. The steel blue being beckoned with loving arms. It would embrace you and wouldn’t expect you to survive.
But the voices continued, freeing themselves but selfishly anchoring her to reality.