I guess it’s just me. I’m a small-town rube still with wonder in me. When I’ve been away from this for even a day and then check in and see a number like...I just uterred a “Wow” to myself. I stare at the number and stare at the number. I reimagine it, like 206,005 Dead can’t just look like that, like just a number. It must have a taste or smell; a shape, a color. Sound. I have heard in my mind’s ear the muffled drums of the funeral march when I have seen other of these numbers. Well, here's a sound:
It could sound like that, absolutely it could sound like that.
It should move. Do the Dance of Death or something. It must have some other meaning. It’s not just me. The New York Times put names to the first 100,000 so long ago, 106,005 ago. They put a slideshow of graves and coffins on their front page. That’s what I mean, graves and coffins, the living burying the dead like in The Great Plague. The Plague of Trump.
