Like some bold seer in a trance, Beholding all his own mischance

The only sounds in the house are the sounds of cars and the occasional person passing by, and I am feeling like the Lady of Shalott.  I am a prisoner in my home, a self-imposed quarantine, 'tis true, but I am still behind metaphorical bars.

With a wall and a half of windows, our living room is full of light.   I can sit and watch life go by, and keep track of the shadows as they creep across the street until they disappear into the evening.  I am The Lady of Shalott.  The lady had a curse and so do I.  My curse is having sentenced myself to self-imposed isolation to avoid the microscopic menaces that could kill me.

I am getting anxious, wanting to go out into the fresh air.

 I intend to soothe my anxiety today.  I am going to leave the house and to hell with the consequences.

Out flew the web and floated wide; 

The mirror crack'd from side to side; 

'The curse is come upon me,' cried 

                                        The Lady of Shalott. 

I ain't afraid of no curse but I can't help thinking, the Lady of Shalott died as a result of having 

unleashed her curse.  Nevertheless, I am going to go to the store, protected by a 6-foot force
field covering me and so, to hell with the curse, I am releasing myself.  

Freedom!

I will apprise you  of the mortality rate tomorrow.........if tomorrow ever comes