Photo Essay by Damien Jordan
After nine months in quarantine, I’ve noticed a pattern. It changes oh-so-slightly with the weather, but for the most part it stays the same each day. Rinse and repeat. Sometimes I daydream about what it’ll be like after vaccinations. Seeing friends for the first time in a year, sharing hugs and hand holds and touch. Going out for lunch with the ones you love the most you haven’t been near for too long. Spending a normal day in school.
Sometimes I worry, though, if any of us will ever really recover. We’ll still see it every day, in the flinches when someone reaches out a hand, uncovers their mouth. In the worried glances when someone gets too close.
I guess we’ll learn to roll with the punches, if somehow we haven’t already.
It’ll all be okay.
Sometimes I worry, though, if any of us will ever really recover. We’ll still see it every day, in the flinches when someone reaches out a hand, uncovers their mouth. In the worried glances when someone gets too close.
I guess we’ll learn to roll with the punches, if somehow we haven’t already.
It’ll all be okay.
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