Carry On
It’s almost three o’clock before I am ready to leave. The car is packed: drinks and snacks so I can avoid stopping, hand sanitizer and a homemade mask, my knapsack and a suitcase carrying hastily packed clothes I hope will cover my whole body at the same time. It doesn’t matter what they look like — I won’t be going anywhere once I get where I’m going — but I am hoping I didn’t pack twelve shirts and no pants.