While the disease marched, we turned on people, searched for rationales like scraps of newspaper in the trash.
They had out-of-state, out-of-county plates. X county was a hotspot. There were so many visitors.
We donned masks, spoke unwelcome, deemed them selfish. We raided the markets, stocked up on toilet paper. TV dinners. Bacon. It was for our own.
Visitors were parasites. They weren’t souls needing respite, a fleeting smile, a friend.
We only whispered contrition in the still of night, moon a silent witness.
The disease numbed contrition with new numbers.
The next day we searched for new rationales. Donned our masks.
………….
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado StateUniversity’s MFA program in fiction. A native of Idaho, Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, CaféLit, and Ariel Chart, among others.