To the mask makers of the South, I extend greetings.
And thank you for a noble job done at such a grave time.
I, however, have a few rather uncomfortable questions to pose relating to the magnitude of your undertaking and beg your urgent attention. It has been boggling the mind ever since the announcement of the decree by the king that restricted assembly to the humble abode due to the tragic outbreak of disease. And the time has never been more opportune.
For purposes of this lettering and mutual benefit, allow me to endeavour to summarise occurrences of late. For more than two calendar months now social mingling has been prohibited for fear of the further spread of a deadly virus brought in from the far corners of the world.
No tilling of the land, no slaughtering of beasts, no axe-throwing, no horseback riding or frolicking in the woods had been allowed.
In the beginning the citizenry put their trust in the burly king and his confidantes. As expected, however, members of the august house appeared rather confused when issuing the regulations of governance during the prevailing period in question. As time progressed the citizens of the land became more restless and started exerting pressure on the poor excellency who tried to keep all and sundry relatively calm with his short scribbles on scrolls and occasionally gathering the people in the capital of the kingdom to inform them of the chosen path. Now, I must say, the king has been rather daring in his belief that he could keep all his countrymen content for such an extended period of large-scale inactivity.
With every woman (yes, ladies before the lords), man and child being confined to their inner sanctum - other than moving out to hunt and barter for supplies from the butcher, the baker and the candlestick-maker - the arrangement of confinement has indeed had an effect of sorts. Of course there were those rebellious, rowdy scoundrels noticed to be applying the rules to their benefit early on.
On the one hand there has been a cluster of citizens delighted about staying indoors, whereas on the other a form of revolt has been building up. Of late some were forcing a formal return to the exchange of silver pieces and children to tutoring. And astonishing, I must say, was the constant bombarding of the royal council with demands for the release of the likes of moonshine and tobacco.
While all of this has been raging on, monetary relief supposed to have been channelled to those in severe distress has seemingly not immediately found its way to deserving recipients. Sadly the sound of the collectors of taxes and debts banging at doors has been deafening.
Ever since the compulsory-making of measures, life has rather been turned into a masked ball of note… dancers with face coverings manoeuvring in circles about one another, not sure of the next move. Frantically scurrying for a seat and then jumping at a turn again. Royalty and commoners all thrown into the same mix.
Today a ray of sunshine, as the rules got lifted slightly. Yet, the directive regulating the bearing of masks remains.
Which brings me to my concerns. And pardon the laboriously narrated tale. The most important question, that requires forceful posing, remains: where on earth does one shop for a mass-produced mask that fits? I did my darnedest to get accustomed to it, but it remains the most uncomfortable and unattractive thing to wear. In this day and age of Googling workable dimensional designs to your heart’s content, how is it that I feel I'm suffocating whenever I wear a mask, that it threatens to change my facial features and is finished off with loops that hurt?
Looking forward to your email.
Yours sincerely,
A citizen of the land.
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