I’m walking my dog; she’s walking hers. I don’t know her name or anything about her, but she lives in the house next door to the house directly across the street from mine.
Trying to be neighborly, I wave and say hello. She says hello back to me. “How are you?” I ask.
She says, “Fine, thanks, and you?”
“Doing okay,” I say.
She says, “I just got back from visiting my son. He’s a freshman in college.”
“That’s nice,” I say.
She says, “He’s under quarantine. He and his girlfriend both tested positive for the coronavirus.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I say.
She says, “But we had a ni￼ce visit nonetheless.”
“I hope you wore a mask during your visit,” I say.
She says, “Oh, was I supposed to do that?”
“Did you get tested?” I ask.
She says, “No need, I feel fine.”
“Gotta run,” I say, as I pull on my dog’s leash and leave abruptly.
I have an appointment to get a COVID-19 test later today.