Love Me. That’s An Order.

Daniel Williams

Feb 28·11 min read

The pandemic forces us to wear masks, to hide our God-given mouths and blemishes. And it forces me to text my sister, describing the smell of my mask breath when it smells uniquely horrible:

• Friday 8:33 PM — “Current mask breath: the General Mills corn snack ‘Bugles.’ I haven’t eaten Bugles in years.”
• Tuesday 10:50 AM — “Current mask breath: rotten hay.”