Science Fiction?

Chel Owens

And remember, shoppers, wearing masks helps everyone.

Kate hardly heard the announcement as she squatted on the fissured floor. It had played five minutes before; five minutes before that; five minutes before that; five years before that.

Don’t forget to stock up on hand sanitizer and cleaning supplies.

Her breath fogged her vision; cleared; fogged. She remembered when panic first hit; when people rushed to stores for cleaners, supplies, and even frozen pizza. Crazy to think, half a decade later, of running out of sanitizer. Everyone brewed his own, fumigating what remained of the landscape.

Are you immunocompromised?

“Then you’re dead,” Kate mumbled into her mask.

Try our grocery pickup: FoodCorp prides itself on offering grocery pickup, right outside the store!

“But not delivery,” Kate sighed. Too bad, really, about delivery. It’d been nice while it lasted. Groceries, radios, cars, the mail -all of it, brought right to where you lived by someone who didn’t take it for himself. Or, someone who didn’t get killed by raiders.

Associates: it’s the top of the hour.

Kate stiffened. More time had passed than she’d realized. Throwing caution to the winds, she lay on the grubby floor and scrabbled underneath the shelving.

Please ensure your areas are neat and tidy for our customers.

Her glasses scraped and scratched. Straining, she felt an edge of curved, sealed metal. It spun at her fingertips but moved closer. She grunted; pushed; spun; strained; shoved. A dust-grimed can of chili rolled in front of her floor-laid face.

Thank you for shopping at FoodCorp!

“Thank you,” she muttered, coughing into the fabric across her mouth. She clutched the can to herself, raised herself, glanced around herself. Shoppers’ shadows walked across her memory as she retraced her steps down the empty, broken aisle. Had it really only been a few years since sunlight? Shining linoleum? Aproned workers sweeping? Smiling customers that moved their shopping carts aside to let yours through?

Please, come again.

Kate shoved a molding display shelf against the wall and climbed. After peeking beneath it, she lifted the ragged Welcome to FoodCorp! banner and crawled though a hole in the brickwork.

Photo by Clément Falize on Unsplash

©2020 Chel Owens

31 thoughts on “Science Fiction?”

  9. in some jurisdictions, and I’m thinking Victoria which is next to us in South Australia, where infection rates have been horrendous and Stage 4 Lockdowns are still continuing, it must seem like that now 😦

    Liked by 1 person

      1. it sure is; especially for Victorians when they live beside a State in which people can move freely in an open society — though interstate travel is only now starting to take off, to States like ours which are essentially covid- free, Hope things are good hwee you are, Chel?

        Liked by 1 person

  10. It is a new decade when the common litter is paper facemasks and used gloves.
    I late last fall to take a walk and pick up litter… I had a glove on and filled two kitchen trash bags full – I couldn’t imagine how some of the litter had gotten on the roadway where people do not normally walk.

    Scary your story. School started in some places, and shut down almost as quick with some students testing positive. And parents are whining that their children’s sports programs are curtailed. There are still some segments of the population that think this virus is all propaganda.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.