Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
We giggle and order everything we’ve dreamed about for months – it’s a good feeling to be out together again.
At the next table, the man tells the waitress to remove her mask, says he’d rather die than wear one. He gets angry when she refuses, starts shouting about infringement of liberty.
An older lady approaches from where she was sitting alone. She’s a full foot smaller than him but there’s strength in her eyes.
“A little more caution might have meant my husband was with me today,” she says. “Is a mask a greater infringement of liberty than death?”