He hadnt really realized where life had taken him. He should not have loosen his job about a couple months ago, either.
Surely, he thought he would find a job soon. Oo, he was one of those called millenial.
Then Corona came. First it was thought of as a sexy girl name and they laughed.
They, with friends.
One later got hospitalized, three could not find a place in hospitals…
He put the chicken pot in oven, the way his mother made it when he was a child. He had never realized how much he missed his mum and he had never known even with money one day would come when you cant even buy chicken or potatoes and carrots in this strange life.
He turned on the timer for pot, sat on his of course designer couch, poured a glass of whisky to drink until his pot is done.
He took a hundred bill from his fashionable bag. He had always wanted to burn his cigar with a hundred bill.
That bill couldnt buy the seasoning he needed for the chicken pot. Not because it was expensive but because it wasnt there to buy.
As he was trying to get drunk and smoking the cigar, he could not decide whether the tears were for his mom, or no seasoning, or friends being lost or whether he might not find the same whiskey or the cigar again.
All he had to remember was to turn off the oven when timer beeped and keep in mind stale Coca-Cola can still be drunk.