“I can't believe we're expected to stay home.” I understood her frustration. After all, extroverts like Alice rarely enjoy a moment of silent contemplation. On the other hand, I had just left the confines of the military. As soon as I picked up my discharge paperwork and left base, I felt like I saw sunlight for the first time. The air smelled free and my shackles fell to the ground. A month later, the entire base shut down as a result of the Virus. Somehow not one sane person realised that packing two Marines into rooms that were 10 feet by 6 feet and shared the same air conditions with at least 200 other Marines was a bad idea. I clutched my discharge paperwork. It was real. I was free. Being forced to stay home did not seem like a punishment. I was on my fourth week in my parents' apartment and I was enjoying the type of extended vacation only Europeans could have. I continued my walk around the affluent neighbourhood. I lived in an apartment that was a 15 minute walk away. It was a nice, red brick, three story building surrounded by palm trees and a large pool. As nice as that complex was, this neighbourhood was another world. As you walked down the path, you stared at homes that towered and stretched in their splendour. An Art Deco house was next to a Swiss chalet as if the houses were competing for the front page of a Homes magazine. Many joggers waved to me as if I lived there so I waved back, pretending I had made it in the world. My schedule for the past four weeks was quite amazing though: 1200 WAKE UP AND WASH UP 1230 BREAKFAST 1300 READ 1400 GO ON A LONG WALK AROUND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD// CALL FRIENDS 1600 LONG BATH 1730 MOTHER GETS OFF WORK// DINNER 1800 FATHER GETS HOME// TEA TIME 1900 WATCH MOVIES//READ//SOCIAL MEDIA 0100 SLEEP I sat down on a bench and stared at the wonderful trees and the grand houses around me. My future was bulletproof. “Just you wait until this Virus leaves!” Mr James told me as he stared at the last worker leaving the building. “You'll be so busy you won't know what to do with yourself!” He laughed theatrically as he slapped his thigh. “Alright, I'm going to do my rounds. I'll see you later!” I watched him walk away before I stood up and stretched. I did a quick scan of the lobby. The once bustling Starbucks was closed and silent. The other security guard, who watched the side of the building open to the public, had already gone home. I was one of the round-the-clock security guards who watched the entrance that needed key cards. No key card? You need to sign in with me and I need to verify who you are before I can let you in. I'm sure when everything goes back to normal, I would probably never get a chance to sit and quietly read my book as I do now. I sat back down and looked at the cameras: Both freight elevators – EMPTY Both regular elevator lobbies – EMPTY All four cameras pointing to various angles of the front door – EMPTY The 7th, 9th, 11th and 14th floors – EMPTY There are 32 different cameras and there was no movement except a stray car passing in front. The mechanics and the cleaning people were the ones I had gotten to know. Everyone wore the same uniform except for the facemask. I decided that if it was my one piece of flair, then it would be fabulous. I bought them off Etsy and I loved showing them off: A “Fun Ghoul” Killjoy mask to showcase my inner emo Red, white and blue stripes for the patriotic month of July White lighting streaks resembling marble, on a black background for some mystery Black with rose-gold polka dots to show case my playful side and my serious side A skeleton with a rose on a parchment background for the gym to deter socialisation I sat back down and opened my book. It has been a few weeks since I started this job and over two months since leaving the military. I could not imagine having to wake up at 5 am to go for a run before going to work. I don't know how I lived that life for four years. I sat calmly reading my book and sipping my coffee, slightly shifting the facemask to do so. But I had begun to feel torn. I enjoyed my reading time and my laser focus at the gym. I also enjoyed spending more time with my parents than I had in years. However, I also missed going out to bars and talking to strangers. I missed going shopping or to the movies – among people it not necessarily going with anyone. Most of all, I miss my own peace and my privacy. Until I save enough money, I cannot move out on my own. “Thank you for your service!” Civilians say that thinking they've helped somehow. It's been four months and the Veterans Affairs office is no closer in helping me get my disability check for my injuries sustained in service. No check, no moving out. I try not to think of all of these things because they spiral me into depression. Instead, I quietly read my book and escape into different worlds.