You hear it before you see it. The squawking echo high in the air. A v-formation so breathtaking. Geese moving in and out swapping sides but retaining shape. The leaders never waver, keeping a sharp pointed direction. Never distracted.

How long do they fly like this? Mary wonders as she walks back from the mailbox. Her arm is full of holiday catalogs. She tosses most of it in the recycle bin. The kids will fish them out later, and circle items on each page, marking up their requests for “must-have” toys. She laughs to herself before making her way inside the house. “Coffee, yes. Pie, maybe? Hmmm.” “Is that really a question,” she teases herself.

Mary’s husband makes the most delicious gluten free honey pie. You would never know it’s modified to exclude family allergens. It’s gorgeous and tastes like salted caramel. You can eat it with a fork or your hands. It’s all delicious. Perfectly paired with hot coffee. “Now that is love.” Lustful desire in the form of a 9” baking dish.

She grabs the coffee pot hoping it’s not empty. Her husband has a habit of filling his travel mug and leaving just the tiniest amount of coffee in the pot. She forages through the fridge for cream. It is packed with leftovers from Thanksgiving. There’s some roasted pork loin under tinfoil. “Who needs a turkey!” her and her husband joked a few days earlier. Sweet potatoes and apples roasted and dripping with pork fat. Some brussels to the left and a dish of honey pie in the center of it all.

The house is quiet, and Mary sits down to read the news. They subscribe to the Sunday paper delivery to get the online subscription discounted. Those Sunday papers also end up in the recycle bin. Where does all this recycling go? “There must be a better way,” she muses as she scrolls down possible gift ideas on Amazon before clicking on Omicron.

Omicron a new Transformer name? ‘More than meets the eye.’ An 80’s childhood admonished from planet Cybertron. Right now, it seems to be the delta between vaccinated and unvaccinated countries. Rich and poor. A place where Omicron surfaces in the ongoing pandemic. Like a distant nugatory planet far away from harm. But we all know it lies in wait. Waiting to transform. Maybe it is already here.

When Mary was younger, she felt a sort of empathy for Megatron like he was really a rogue Autobot. Couldn’t he just join forces with Optimus Prime?

Mary’s mind can’t help but wander, can good and evil come together, once and for all, in repose.

It’s been a tough year. Social distancing, masks, PCR testing. There have been a few times already when Mary has sat in her car awaiting a Covid test. This is the drill: lower car window and remove mask. Tech reaches in with a long nasal swab, breath is paused. Swipe, swipe, swipe in a circular motion. Swipe, swipe, swipe in a circular motion. Mask up. Drive away. Click repeatedly on the link until results are returned from lab.

Mary still listens to the car radio. It’s a hard habit to break even with all the convenience of far-reaching technology and podcast choices. College radio usually does the trick. Each weekday morning, as she drives the kids to school, she listens to music well beyond her years. In reverse, remembering all the things that didn’t happen in the emaciated coolness of her forty something sweater and mom jeans.

On her way back, just before turning into the driveway, she turns off the radio and sits in the silence. The hum of the garage door opening. The birds chirping. Mary gets out of her car and walks slowly down the driveway to the mailbox. Enjoying the late Autumn sun on her face.