Day 96: The Grind

96 days. 42 posts. 41225 words and counting. Lots of tears and an almost embarrassing amount of whiskey went into the creation of these pages. And lots of beer.  And scotch.  And other convenient little helpers ingested just to temporarily ward off the loneliness and the echoing fears of a tomorrow unfairly promised and never quite arriving. There was also tear gas. And bullets, both peppered and rubber, fired at me in anger. And an almost insurmountable isolated isolation suffered for the sake of the common good. There was this pandemically mandated quarantine, locked down tight, here in this little flyover town. And finally, at last, the City of Wayne is opening itself back up, though in measured, impatiently hesitant steps. But, I’m not sure that …

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