I used to look outside my window, and see a vast blue coastline, with small boats rolling through the waves. I saw waves, blue and majestic, rolling to the shore. I saw all the families sitting under their umbrellas, with their blue striped towels, and Coca-Cola’s in their hand. I saw the shell collectors, looking for rare shells, big and small. I saw the swaying palms, creating a relaxing scene for the beach goers. I noticed the ice cream shops, with their handwritten signs and samples. I noticed the tourist trap shops that sell t-shirts and more. I saw the boardwalk, full of stores, full of relaxed shoppers. I notice the gray brick underneath the blue-teal bicycles rolling through, human in tow. I saw peace and calm.
Now, I look out my window, and see the coastline, with boats sitting in the marina. I see people, masks shielding their faces, walking along the shore. I see the palms, sad and gloomy. I see that the ice cream store is closed, a big red “Out of Business” sign sits where the handwritten one used to be. I see the tourist trap store selling “I survived the pandemic” t-shirts. I see the gray boardwalk, painted over “keep your distance” plaques. I see gloominess and despair.
