Scratching your face until the blood begins to trickle. There’s this thing inside that’s slowly eating away all that is familiar. Neighborhood walks used to provide a slice of solace, but now, the scenery is all so alienating. One foot leads the other in a purposeless exercise. Early in the pandemic, she sent you the meme of the eagle and the stupid little walk. But now, the only thing you feel is the loss of everything. You used to watch the ferries cut across the bay, a scene so serene. But now, you’re afraid of it all. Fearful of the proximity and the associated binds that engage just to pull you in and stimulate sentiments you no longer want to recognize. And so you close your eyes and envision rotting ships sinking into the sea. Overhead, all the clouds have dispersed, and a green moon illuminates the cataclysm that will alter lives forever. And suddenly, you’re awakened by the smell of iron and hemoglobin from an itch you’ll never quell.