Hour 10, Prompt 18, Year 2021

It’s Friday afternoon but there’s no parties
Such is the story of quarantine
Work is over but it all feels the same
Can’t tell Friday from Monday or Tuesday
As this nightmare drags on and on and on
In someone’s mind, a bright idea takes form
We switch from our work files to Airbnb
And decide to embark on a little journey
We drive a few hundred miles north
Already, we feel reborn
We enter a beautiful vacation home
And forget everything that had happened before
All of our anxiety and fear
And the trauma from the first half of the year
In times like this, the littlest of things
Are unparalleled in the happiness they bring
Next morning, as the sunlight streams in
We wake up in a warm blue cabin
Instead of skyscrapers, we see rolling hills
Little bluebirds on the windowsills
We manage a quick walk outside
Not another soul far and wide
And then we sit by a large window
With hot coffee and warm fresh oats
Ready to start our work for the day
Working, but still partially on holiday
It’s true that quarantine seems the worst at times
So when you see an opening, catch that little ray of light