Lockdown. A journal entry by Jacqui Hodge

Lockdown. Dark skies with soft whispering wind. A stroll about town to stretch my legs.
An eerie silence, pavements stripped of people and litter. Pigeons plod laboriously around the square. Ghostlike an empty bus appears. My pace quickens, I hear the echo of my shoes bounce off the buildings. Window shopping becomes beguiling, customers now excluded. My hour of exercise and freedom is complete. Home to my garden, so thankful for Spring, hopeful for Summer.

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