Two years ago. The old-fashioned shop bell clattered as I pushed the door and went in out of the rain. The woman behind the counter looked at me and put a mask on her face. No one had ever put a mask on to protect themselves from me and I was miffed. Offended and put out. I know I’m perfectly clean and healthy – nothing infectious here. Her gaze above blue fabric judged. Ever contrary, I smiled, thinly – trust me, I’m nice. There was no response to see. The bell clanged farewell as I left the shop.
