People, so many people. They brush past me and my child in his wheelchair. Hurrying, scurrying. I try not to recoil. Vulnerable, we have been months tucked up in the cocoon of our home, cloistered away from Covid. The supermarket, its carpark and crowds, have become an alien situation to me. I stand by my car, scanning wildly. “Where is the door? Oh, there it is.” My chest tightens. I suck in air. Gulping and swallowing, I give my shoulders a determined shake. “I can do this.” With sweaty palms, I grasp the handles of the wheelchair and stride forward.
Wendy Taylor lives in rural New Zealand with her family and a variety of animals.