FEATURED WRITER

Hannah Grieco

On the last day

we took a drive, watched other kids play, their masks around their necks, laughing and spitting and sneezing all over their friends, and we watched their parents and nannies talking, watched them pull their masks down and lean close to whisper, and you looked at me with this expression on your face, like you’d never say something, not to me, but something needed to be said, and I didn’t meet your eyes, kept driving past the playground, past the Starbucks with the crowd of high school students hugging each other and that one couple making out, and you laughed at that at least, so I took us to McDonald’s, got you an ice cream that didn’t even really taste like ice cream, but you said thank you so politely, and you ate it and stared out the window, and we drove around longer, for hours even though you usually hate the car, usually don’t want to hang out with me, but you wanted something, anything new, anything living and breathing, and you opened your window and asked me what would happen, what’s the big deal anyways, and I didn’t want to say what the big deal was, but you said, “I already heard you tell grandma,” and you said, “You told grandma that I see things and that a fever would make me see things worse,” and you said, “You told grandma that they wouldn’t take me at the hospital if I had COVID,” and I said, “You heard that, huh,” and you said, “Yeah I heard that,” and then I said, “I’m sorry I told grandma instead of you,” and I said, “I’m sorry nobody wears their mask,” and I said, “This year will eventually end, I promise,” and you handed me the cone, which you hate because McDonald’s cones taste like crunchy paper, and you said, “I’m the reason you never go anywhere,” and you said, “I’m always the reason you don’t go anywhere, aren’t I?” and you said, “You’d go so many places if it wasn’t for me,” and I tried to think, even opened my mouth as if I had an answer, but you stuck your head out the window, your shaggy mullet mop flying, and you yelled and yelled and yelled.

Hannah Grieco is a writer, editor, teacher, and advocate in the Washington, DC area. She writes essays and reported articles, as well as fiction, creative nonfiction, interviews, book reviews, food pieces, and humor. Her fiction has been awarded a spot on the Wigleaf Top 50, and her writing has been nominated for Best American Essays, The Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfiction. Her work can be found in The Washington Post, The Week, Al Jazeera, Parents Magazine, Huffington Post, The Baltimore Sun, The Rumpus, Today’s Parent, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Washington City Paper, She Knows, and many more newspapers, magazines, and literary journals. Follow her on Twitter @writesloud!