Exploded

Prose Poem

Photo by Daniel Jensen on Unsplash

I am dressed. I am going somewhere. It’s a new early. It’s a new morning. The day is fresh. I rush out of the house towards a purpose. I can see my breath dancing in the cool air. I walk towards the tube. I’m surrounded by commuters. This almost feels nostalgic… but their faces are now foreign. We don’t show them anymore. We are scared of spitting on each other or worse, talking. On the plus side, the mask saves time. No need to…