Squat old man, two liter bottles of vodka in your cart and purple veins lacing your nose—
Punker girl, pouting that people no longer notice purple hair and piercings—
Woman in a business suit, thin lips pinching together over business not altogether your own—
Lean runner—legs tanned and calves bulging, though you wear a mask—
Frazzled mom—trying to keep two toddlers from touching everything in reach and failing—
Too bad the virus doesn’t glow
So we could switch off all the lights
And see
 
Are you the one?