I am by habit a creature of decided singularity, a recluse, hermit if you will, happy to exist in my own very particular company, surrounded by thoughts and reflections gathered over a number of years. Surprisingly, I have found the effect of enforced isolation extraordinarily depressing. Whilst not a social beast by any measure, enforced solitude is strangely disabling, being accustomed to keeping most individuals at arm’s length I have become quite dependent for good cheer upon those signs available from such distance, a smile, a nod, a pair of tinkled eyes, even a wave or muffled greeting. The necessary accoutrement of the face mask, as well as the reduced frequency of all exterior excursions, have hit my sociability particularly hard.
The resident in solitudes shadow is affected very easily, a sudden lack of light, of a vista, the absence of the sweet smell emanating from pleasantly scented vegetation, all prove a notch too tight on the already restricted lifestyle. Fate be ever aware of poking the bear, for Ursus will predictably react in kind.