The sign with your name shakes in my trembling hands.

Your picture had your eyes blurred and with these darn masks, I doubt I will recognize you.

My skin is electrified, goosebumps upon goosebumps. Nipples point through my bra and shirt. My mouth is dry but my lips are wet, I pray it does not show through my jeans.

A man slows, looks my way then walks off. Crap is that you?

Are you disappointed?

He turns around, approaches and says my name.

Shaking, I drop the sign.

This damn Covid-19 prevents that long-awaited hug.