Postcards From the Pandemic


It began so very gently…

There were whispers, soft and occasional, of some far-flung contagion.

The whispers grew louder and more numerous. Soon everyone was whispering — and eying one another skeptically.

I couldn’t pretend not to notice, on my morning walks-for-coffee, that dozens of citizens were crossing the street to avoid going past me. It was like junior high all over again.

Friends stopped calling or visiting. That was like high school.

For a week-or-so, the strangeness continued unchanged. Then one beautiful morning, someone opened a can of delirium and poured it over the planet. And like billions of mystified earthlings I was left wondering where life as I knew it had disappeared to. And if I’d ever set eyes on it again.

Though my memories of the global COVID-19 crisis are confessedly fuzzy (alcohol is likely a strong factor), a few key incidents stick out strongly in my mind…

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About michael burgwin

A child of the peace and antiWar movements, a Truther with self-diagnosed Opposition Defiance Disorder, formerly politically liberal tho now politically marooned, and Post-Doomer, on any issue, I trend to the conspiracy side, sort through the absurd, fantastical and insane, until I find firm ground usually located just the other side of the censorship firewall of propaganda and orthodoxy, dogma, and other either / or thinking.
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