… zoftig young woman jogs by… i say good morning… she ignores me…

… on the walk of sorrows i pass a tall, slender, elderly man, white mask, white hair… i say good morning… he quietly says good morning back…

… still on the walk of sorrows, i pass another younger man, shuffling along, mask pulled down below his chin… he moves out into the road to pass well in advance of reaching me… i think to myself, i would have done that… it’s safer, i would be facing the oncoming traffic… i say good morning to him… he looks at me suspiciously and makes no reply…