Pandemic Procrastination
   (Covidus Interruptus)

 So, where is that manuscript?
(Scrolling the screen.) Such a great story.
Ten years in. Perfect time to finish it.
What was that title? It’s in my “Writing” file
        somewhere.

Next to “Photos.” (What great pics.
Dang, that was a great vacation!
France. And then the summer cabin in Glacier.
Wait? Whose adorable kittens are those?)

I have got to email my cousin,
The one in Montana – not young anymore –
Just to check on how he’s doing,
Covid 19 and all. But first, get to work here.

Work! Wow, what if this had hit before I retired?
Work from home? Laid off? Fired!
Like all those folks strolling our street.
Who knew there were so many
            breeds of dog!

 Whew, found the MSS. How’s this for
            a title?
“It’s A Wonderful Life.”
(Global Disease Spoiler Alert.)
Okay, may need to change that.

 But hey, this reads pretty good.
“The days stretched out ahead
Like a fabulous picnic, spread on a checkered blanket…”
Oh crap! What’s for dinner? Cooking in again.

Pick-up meals don’t travel well.
Burgers don’t sizzle. Fries, lukewarm.
Don’t even start about pancakes and over-easy eggs
From my fav breakfast place.

Even if dining at restaurants is now okay,
No way I’m ready for that, swapping invisible viri aerosol
With who-knows which diner hasn’t distanced.
Plus, elastic on the face mask makes my ears stick out,
            like Dopey.

“… [O]n a checkered blanket.” Okay, can’t lead with food,
Or happy days ahead. Hmm, “days ahead like empty streets.”
Then, tone down the optimism, but not too dreary.
S**t, I’m not going to rewrite the whole damn thing.

Looks pretty complete now, actually: beginning, middle, end.
Hook, arc, and all. Is ten thousand words too short for a novella?
Gotta know when to stop, right?
I mean I don’t have a lot of time for a full do-over.

Oh. Yeah.
Just the rest of my life.