It was my first egress for weeks. I wore a mask, I reeked of hand gel and I kept twice the recommended distance from the next human being on my way to the local shop. That wasn’t an issue once inside. I was the only punter there.
I picked up my paper. At the till, behind the plastic barrier, behind a face shield, behind a surgical mask, the newsagent invited me to use the payment gizmo. Cash was taboo. He gave a thumbs up.
He scanned the empty shop and beckoned me closer to the screen.
“You do know the real reason for this lockdown larkey ?”
I frowned. Of course I knew.
The newsagent leaned closer to his screen; he lifted his shield and his mask.
“We’re being kept out of the way for The Great Survey.”
“When the Normans invaded, they wanted to know what they’d won, where it was and who owned it so that they could nab all the valuable stuff. Domesday Book. Same with this bunch.”
“What bunch ?”
“Our New Overlords.”
He pointed to the sky, and then to the headline in my newspaper.
“Increase in Unidentified Aerial Phenomena Incidents During Pandemic.”