Maybe we thought it would go away.
The two industrial-grade face masks I bought at a business expo three weeks ago seemed like an overreaction and a bit of a joke then. I remember feeling silly bringing them home, but thought we could use them for dressing up, or that I could wear them when sweeping and mopping to prevent dust inhalation. Now they are scarce. Security guards and shop personnel complimented David on one when he was out shopping earlier. They wanted to know: where did he get it?
Hugging and hand-shaking didn’t seem weird even two weeks ago. Now even N the caretaker is wearing a mask whilst sweeping the (communal) compound. I keep wanting to snap a photo because it’s so sudden and surreal. But I’ve been busy each time I see him, hanging our washing over the balcony rails. With eight people, we have a lot of laundry!
Eight people. Same as Noah’s ark.
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