The world is a scary place, rife with hazards and risk and dangers around every corner. It’s not safe out there. That’s why I’ve been staying at home, avoiding other people. I can get stuff sent straight to my front door with contactless delivery. To step outside is to put me in harm’s way.

It’s out there. Lurking. Unseen. But in here, at home, I was in control. It couldn’t get me if I stayed right where I was.

But today, I had no choice. I had to risk it.

We were out of rations and delivery was unavailable for days. Too much demand. They couldn’t keep up. Thankfully, the nearest supermarket was only a few blocks away. Surely, I could make it. I just had to play it safe. Keep my exposure down to a minimum. And keep to myself.

I grabbed my winter coat, laced up my boots, put on my mask and toque, and stepped outside for the first time in days. A brisk December morning, the frost gently kissing the blades of grass on my neighbour’s lawn. The trees swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. A quietness, a serenity, a somber and almost idyllic scene.

“This is okay,” I thought to myself.

The sidewalks were mostly barren. This is a very residential part of town, after all. Practically no one in sight. I headed in the direction of the supermarket, which was only about a 10-minute walk. “You can do this,” I reassured myself.

The lack of other people was reassuring, in a not exactly misanthropic kind of way. This is just how we live now. The more time we spend in public spaces, the more is outside our control. The greater our risk of exposure.

Almost there. Just another block. You’re doing great.

I got to the major street. More people around, mostly keeping to themselves. “Outdoors is safer than indoors,” I reminded myself. Other people are wearing headphones. “I should have thought of that,” I realized. “That way, I could block out…”

And then, as I was mid-thought…

WHAM!!!

Right when I felt safe, when I least expected it, I was blindsided. Out of nowhere, an otherwise innocent-looking dark grey sedan pulled up to the red light, at the crosswalk where I was waiting. Its windows rolled down just a bit, just enough for me to hear what was playing over the car speakers.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart
But the very next day you gave it away
This year, to save me from tears
I’ll give it to someone special

I would not make it through this Whamageddon, just as I didn’t survive last Christmas or the one before that. There’s always next year, I guess.

Once bitten and twice shy
I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye
Tell me baby, do you recognize me?
Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me

If you enjoyed this short story, you might also like A Distinctly Canadian Journey.