I was at Walgreen’s yesterday when I overheard a man at the pharmacy counter asking for face masks. “This is our last box,” the pharmacist said. The man glanced around to see if anyone was looking. I swear he gave me the evil eye right before he snatched the box from the pharmacist’s hands and hid it in his basket. Despite reading that the masks may be pointless, I’d already looked for them. Out of a mild sense of self-respect, I had refrained from actually asking for them. Now, apparently, it was too late. If swine flu swept the...
The blog for aspiring writers & voracious readers. Writing resources, book reviews, & notes on the literary life.
