Mano a Mano

"It's Bo! It's Bo!" the kids yelled and hit the back of the sofa hard enough (waving) to tip it into the window. Bo saw them through the visor of his hazmat suit and waved back - pointing to a huge stack of mail in his hands just for them. He came up the front walk cutting a rug to whatever was playing on his headphones at the time; he put the mail in the repository by the front door and started to turn it just enough to touch fingers with the kids through his glove and slip them a couple of pieces of candy before he danced off to the next house. "Make some fun today!" he called out, using the exterior mic to broadcast it and they all smiled and made heart shapes with their hands. More faces at more windows with more waving; Bo was the only carrier who walked up to the doors anymore. "Dude, so dangerous," Mickey commented at the distribution center (loading him up with boxes and bags). "Sure," Bo had said, picking his playlist for the day, "but I'd rather get the virus than die of loneliness." Mickey reached over and shook his hand (the first mano a mano contact he'd had in months).