Tag Archives: covid

Pandemic Wordle #271

snow

© James Pyles

If you like my work, buy me a virtual cup of coffee at Ko-Fi.

Ben found himself wistful in recalling the green and growing Spring, the triumph of life in its myriad expressions. The world had been a lively place back then, marked by the paint of the Sun’s light upon the world.

But life eventually will falter and bend under the forces of time and circumstance. As much as he wanted to lift above the sorrows, he sank back down in his nakedness. The icy hiemal that was now existence ruled everything. He doubted he would see another Spring, even when the season actually arrived.

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Standing Up Against the Bullies

A couple of days ago, I posted a commentary about COVID and vaccines and I took great pains to shield the source of my conversation.

But when I woke up this morning and checked in on twitter, I found that the “haters” had discovered my commentary and decided to call me a bunch of names. No, it had nothing to do with “science” or “evidence.” It had everything to do with them being bullies.

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Who Is That Unmasked Man?

Promotional image from the 1956 TV show “The Lone Ranger” starring Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels

Anymore people’s avatar photos or other images depict a lot of folks wearing masks. I see this on Facebook, twitter, various blogs, and other social media venues. I’m calling BS on this.

No, I’m not an “anti-masker” (funny how the word “anti” usually means either “stupid” or “evil”). I do wear a mask whenever I go out in public (although * gasp * I don’t wear a mask to check the mail, go out into my backyard, or when I go to bed…oh the horror…yes, I’m being sarcastic).

Let me explain.

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Kathleen Morales and the Bandit Carolinas

oasis

Oasis in the Libyan part of the Sahara – Credit to Sfivat and licensed under Public Domain.

The open sky stretched from sand to horizon and the riders advanced on the oasis. Kathleen Morales led her band of rebel outlaws, two dozen strong, toward the wide, limpid pool surrounded by long grass waving in the torrid breeze under the shade of the broad palm branches. But when they finally arrived at this rare shelter amid a vast wasteland of the east, they discovered they weren’t alone.

The desert bandit swung a leg over her saddle and dismounted, heavy boots making their mark on the damp soil. Her hair, a tangle of magenta, azure, and her natural brown, flew up as she landed, and the gold and silver of her nose and ear piercings sparkled in the filtered sunlight. She marched up to the tiny collection of refugees and declared, “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my oasis?”

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