The sign with your name shakes in my trembling hands.
Your picture had your eyes blurred and with these darn masks, I doubt I will recognize you.
My skin is electrified, goosebumps upon goosebumps. Nipples point through my bra and shirt. My mouth is dry but my lips are wet, I pray it does not show through my jeans.
A man slows, looks my way then walks off. Crap is that you?
Are you disappointed?
He turns around, approaches and says my name.
Shaking, I drop the sign.
This damn Covid-19 prevents that long-awaited hug.
