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Weekly Contest #301
After a good long cry and five-mile run, Sandra could almost convince herself she would be okay. She took off her mask and switched off her Personal Proximity Perimeter as she entered the apartment. She slumped onto the couch, ignoring her Mycrobiometer’s beepy insistence that she ought to shower first, get her body disinfected. She gazed at the spot where Julia’s Mycrobiometer used to sit, imagining she could see its outline in dust. But she knew that was impossible. Julia had never let dust settle in the apartment. Sandra’s own Mycrobiomet...
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