I’m happy to share the three-finger poking I received from God. I did learn this last week, invariably with a platter of remorse.

With anticipation of a lockdown lifting, we can almost taste the fresh air again. Dreams of roaming the streets and seeing life bustling

“Dead men tell no tales”. I could hear my imaginary Harriet Tubman* pointing her gun to my head, mocking my faint heart. I became the...