They continued to wear their masks long after the quarantine restrictions had been removed. The fear lingered long after the virus had gone. April had borrowed her Granny’s antique plague mask months ago and now wore it even to pop to the shops. Sometimes they were followed. Beige men with gas masks on were on the streets still, a government hangover from the quarantine days. They were not sure when it would ever feel safe again. There was a salutary comfort in the masks, shielding them, hiding them from prying eyes. They couldn’t remember a time when they didn’t wear them…
