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Category

Memoir

Category

We live for that tomorrow. That UK tomorrow being promised by talking heads on TV. End of June they say and we can be free. Or as Martin Luther King Jr. put it, “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” But we’re not holding our breath, with a mask or without one. Fear of open spaces is called, “Agoraphobia,” I imagine we’ll all suffer from an agoraphobia whack on the head, when we once again venture out into the great outdoors. The UK does not yet have the strictest lockdown. But we’re getting there. Our balcony is our little space to view the world going by. The trip to the supermarket is now our version of Marco Polo’s trip up the Silk Road to the Mystic East. The fear is of contagion, from strangers we would not give even a second glance,as we…