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Feeding The Tribe

Tags: virus, hunter

My phone buzzes receipt of grandmother's supermarket list. I go in search of my keys and my mask.

"Where you goin'?" My four year old wants to know.

"Shopping hun. Take care of Daddy."

"Want to come too."

"Can't babe."



The roads are deserted, the parking lot isn't. 

'I bet they don't  have half this stuff.' But I stalk the aisles like a hunter anyway. Then, on the way back home, I drop off my catch to a grateful, masked granny.

Same time next week.



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