I woke with a dread. Needed to make a grocery run. I pulled the neck gator up over my nose and mouth, and took a quick glance in the mirror. I looked like a bandit, like an unknown thief. But it did coincide nicely with the way I felt. Like something had been stolen. Like something was missing. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. You know, something nameless. Then again, maybe it was just the lack of normalcy. That place just this side of nervous humor that seems to turn into fear fifteen times a day. Yeah, that place. They say it will still exist when this is all over. It will still be there. I suppose they're right. But my phone just sounded an alert. The “Stay At Home” health order has been extended until the end of the month.

I still look like a bandit.