The Store

Your cart needs to be sanitized

By a man wearing a mask

And the fear infects you like a disease.

Half the people have cloth covering their face

Half don't

The cloth-wearers glare at the others

And you touch your naked face

Wondering if you should have donned one

Wondering why you didn't

Wondering if the others pose a threat

A man without a mask coughs ever so slightly

And the panic contaminates your veins

Like nothing you've ever felt before.

The loudspeaker reminds you

To keep six feet apart

But how can you do that

When the aisle is so small

And the woman behind you looking for bread

Is getting too close

You can hear her breath

She's getting too close,

Too close,

Too close,

BACK UP--

And the words pandemic

Virus

Sick

Cough

Corona

Death

Linger like respiratory droplets in the air

Unspoken but there

And you reach for your hand sanitizer.

The cashier talks behind a screen

And gingerly hands over the change.

You wonder if she has it

You wonder if the man who coughed had it

You wonder if YOU have it

And then you leave.

And that infectious fear

That seemed so rational before

Dissipates into the sky.