by Kerry Dougherty

The decals on the floors are wearing away. Much of the Plexiglas is gone, too. And what exactly did people do with all those stupid cloth masks they loved to wear just five years ago?

(I had one: a black mask made of cheesecloth with holes so big I could drink through it. It did absolutely nothing except it silenced the self-pointed covid police. Remember the Karens? I wore that theatrical mask only when I was forced to during Anthony Fauci’s lab-leak pandemic.)

I was in line at the post office the other day, mailing a letter to my granddaughter at camp. Tha’s when I noticed the well-worn decals on the floor. The woman behind me saw me take a picture of it.

“They should scrape those up,” she muttered.

“Nah. Leave them,” I replied.

I hate to see the reminders of that dystopian time disappear. I want those idiotic, not-based-on-science signs demanding that we “social distance” to remain. They should serve as a warning about what happens when power-mad government factotums gain power.

They successfully stomped on our civil rights once. They’ll try again. Continue reading.