There once was a girl. She lived in a house of which she’d purchased with pride and disbelief. At the kitchen table they sat. Breakfast she’d prepared for her partner had been served. Their laptops were open to plans of their bright future together. They’d awoken to the desire for a bicycle ride.
The governor had declared an order to change it all. Within moments the girl and her partner found themselves unemployed. The time for discussion had ended. People were not fearful of this cold. It was time for the governor to take everyones best interest into his hands. He ordered the closure of every bar and restaurant within the state lines.
She had finalized their plans for retirement. Her schedule was set. Sixty hours a week for the next twenty years. Two weeks a year to travel with her beloved. The rest of her life to live once she’d achieved the funds.
With a few words from the governor and a text from her father, the girl realized it had all lost it’s point. The girl found herself quite humbled. She became sick with guilt at her squashed retirement plans when she thought the coworkers unable to eat and feed their children. Her partner became broken with the American Dream’s ability to be squashed like a spider under a boot of the worrisome.
Their bicycle ride would wait.