The inner vicious fooled me again, it finally happened that I went down in search of a beer, because a movie must be seen properly. I’ve picked up the bike and headed out onto the street to the two minimarkets in the area. But it was too late. All closed, sirens overlooking the provincial road in the distance, a small family jogging in Indian file around their building, and the usual good guy shouting “at home!” from some window.
I look around, there’s nobody there. The TV voice has no face, and no thought, but you give it the finger anyway. Meanwhile, someone honks to get me out of the center of the street. There is no gathering, but perhaps the horn is right. I join a line of masks along the sidewalk, and get out of the way.