“Aren’t things going to be worse in your village?” she asked the migrant worker.
“At least we will be with our family.” the worker responded.
“How will that help?” she persisted.
The worker smiled. “We spend our lives alone, we don’t have to die alone.”
“What’s the problem with man?” she wondered aloud.
“When he is locked out he wants to get home. When he is locked at home he wants to get out. Never happy!”
“Man cannot live without choices.” he concluded.
“He needs choices to be happy.”
“I tested positive,” he said with sadness.
“What do you mean?” she countered.
“It means i might die!” he shot back rolling his eyes.
“You’d better start living then!” she giggled.
She lay on her pillow watching him while he slept.
He still had the bad habit of leaving his side of the bed lamp on.
She smiled, sighed and turned off the facetime.
“How are things on earth?” posed God.
“The virus is in control but still rampant” informed the angle.
“Why do you insist on calling Man the virus?” God asked with a chuckle.
The burning heat asked the scorched earth, “what keeps you from giving up?”
“Hope….” said the earth,