An insignificant Saturday had dawned on the street across, where the store’s shutters have been down for a month. Angels and grasshoppers now take a breather there.
They’ll be opening soon, sonny!
I plucked him from the window to the play corner. The disorder of familiar toys produced a semblance of normalcy.
I added rows of cars while he built his Lego town. Dumpers, oil-tankers. An ambulance.
Nobody’s returned to the store since one carried them away.
Mum! It’s lockdown! He shouted; put the cars away.
I hugged him so he wouldn’t see my welling eyes.