Covid-19 Short Story Winner

Before it came, she was unstoppable.
She sliced through her days like an ice-cutter, breaking modest glass ceilings (they were more like plastic) and bypassing equators and border controls simply by staying put. She believed that to travel was to delay and to stall was to go nowhere

It’s a cloudy afternoon in a small city. The date and exact time are not important; time is a relic of the past. The concept ceased to exist somewhere between the first million dead bodies out in the real world and the fifth wilting plant in the comfort of my own home.

The TV in Memorial Hospital’s doctor’s lounge was on mute, but CNN’s running headline showed the grim news: May 28, 2020: U.S death toll from Covid-19 passes 100,000.