My diet consisted mainly of salads, pasta, and tuna sandwiches. For breakfast, I would have an egg and a slice of buttered toast. If I had any cheese, I might put a slice on the egg and make a little toasted sandwich with it. I also made sure I had plenty of coffee. My most recent "delicacy" consisted of sardines on fresh Italian bread. The canned sardines were packed in olive oil and imported from Spain. I bought the loaves of bread from the Italian bakery down the street. I liked the way the olive oil would soak into the soft texture of the bread. Sometimes I would sprinkle a bit of ground parsley or oregano on it. Once I tried adding garlic to the combination but, it was a bit overbearing for my taste.

Because of the pandemic, I was working from home. "Home" was a tiny one-bedroom apartment on the edge of town. The streets had become like a ghost town you might see in an old science fiction movie, except this was real, too real for my liking. I worked as a software engineer for a non-descript company no one had ever heard of. Despite the impressive title, the paycheck was barely enough to pay the bills. I suppose I could have saved another $150 a month by canceling cable TV, but I needed something to occasionally divert my mind from the unrelenting demands of my job and my boss.

Aside from my usual duties, my coworkers would hound me with their computer problems. But, as crazy as it sounds, there were many times I would have rather gone into the office than sit at home in my sweatpants and polo shirt in front of a laptop. Maybe if I communicated face to face with people rather than talking to a 12" computer screen, they would be more respectful.

My non-working life wasn't much better. Because of the virus, it was impossible to socialize or meet people. All the bars in town were closed. Many people took up drinking at home as a favorite pastime. I feared I, too, would become one of them. I did like a swig of rum now and then, but only when I wasn't working, which seemed to be never. Because I rarely left my apartment and I was usually on call, there was no discernible distinction between work and free time. I was always in the same tiny apartment staring at a computer screen or a television screen.

There were times when I could swear the walls were literally closing in on me. Then again, they weren't very far apart, to begin with. To be honest, those might have been the evenings when I may have had a bit too much of the rum. Although I would go out for a walk once in a while, mostly to go grocery shopping, I felt like a prisoner in a tiny cell. I felt like I was becoming a sardine in a tin.

Story and Cover Illustration Copyright © 2021 by Michael DeFrancesco