Round Faces Pegged In Squares

Hollywood squares, we would stare at the set, as we do now in varying shapes and sizes. Now family appears in quaint little tablet squares - some sheltered-quiet, or eccentric with Eiffel Tower backdrop, some ogling the others, one with a gas mask face finding appall and humor during this fathomless race, slow like a tortoise who can’t mete a hare — time recklessly drawn out, the finish line far out there. What will we find when civilization restarts? Will we be wearing rags, our riches bagged up and sent to thrift? I stare and inquire of the squares — will we find our round faces headed into outer space or going nowhere at a fast pace? Are we raptured? Are we done? NO! the session ended, no goodbyes too - sudden as a hawk we will find our hands back in the land of the living robotic pace of happenstance have we lost a career, gained weight, kept up the humor of the Hollywood Squares? 3/30/2020