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…
We are entering a new world. A world of lockdown. Masks over our faces. Stuck indoors. Fear driving our lives.
Digital Artwork available on Super Rare
“Come to Glass Beach”, she whispered. “Come to see the colours created by the God of the Sea. Years of sculpting away the rubbish left by man, to create something of infinite beauty”. She stared past me, ancient headdress intact.
“Glass baubles float all around…man’s discarded rubbish is Poseidon’s treasure…” her words were pacifying but said with infinite sadness.
“This was my favourite beach for centuries – many came to worship me here. It was a holy place. Then men came and left rubbish all over my precious and scared beach. I was so sad. I blew away all the rubbish into tiny fragments, a long long time ago”, she looked down, “all that was left was broken glass. I begged my husband to sculpt them into something of beauty. To reverse the destruction wrought on my sacred beach. He would only do it if he could keep me here forever. To be the guardian of this beach. To be a prisoner here. I agreed to the pact.” she turned to me, tears glistening, “worship my Glass Beach, please?”
Artwork tokenized on the blockchain on KNOWN ORIGIN, Anna Louise Simpson, 2020
Words, Anna Louise Simpson, 2020
“There was a blue shade to West Hollywood this evening. Even flash of crimson red could not distract her. Cars flashed past on the Drive, as bright sunshine attempted to include her. This was not really her part of town and no-one really noticed her. Everyone looked through her as if she was a ghost. A West Hollywood Girl, she thought wrly. There was an atmosphere of utter disintegration in Hollywood this evening that no-one could touch but she felt it in the blue pigmentation of the West Hollywood sky.”