I’m scared. Again. Still. I’m tempted to just hide out here in comfort with the wood stove, the shows to binge-watch, my job, my music. But I have to be proactive, and I invite you to join me.
Once the ballot is marked, the clock-wise circumnavigation of the room continues. The poll warden pauses her knitting to ceremoniously slide open the giant, locked, wooden ballot box and slide it shut again.