It sure seems like this pandemic has been dragging on so much longer than any of us could have ever anticipated, kind of like the production of this series.

Well, hey, we've had a lot of upheaval and uncomfortable adjustments to manage our way through,

just like the rest of the world.

But we're still here, damn it.

And so are you.

So that is something we can all be proud of.

For the final installment of our 1918-2020 series,

we offer a wistful, romantic, and delightfully creepy story penned by our dear and

multi-talented friend Tim MacArthur in his first audio play as part of our FMT writer's

cabal. Perhaps it's not too much of a stretch to imagine. A lonely wind that carries an airborne pestilence searching for a host upon

which to feed. Where might such a wind carry us? Who does it interact with? What story would it tell us?

And what might that story tell us about ourselves? Are you prepared to make such a discovery? If you strain to listen to the sound of that wind, you may hear the muted cries of some long-forgotten ghosts. Hello, dear readers, it's me, CWC Woolsey.

You're calm in the storm, you're a canary in the coal mine, your voice of reason ready to vaccinate the virus of pandemic panic. I am proud to pen this weekly editorial as presented by the New York Gazette Post Tribune Globe, America's finest and most historically accurate periodical paper.

I call this column the pandemic log or plog.

Well, then I, CWC. Wolsey, will deliver you tips, tricks, and sound advice to thrive

in these trying times.

Now that the Spanish flu, or as I like to call it, the paella pukees, has forced us

all to stay inside. Have you found your inner cuckoo clock chiming a few too many times upon the

hour? You know when you contract a case of the crazies and your eyeballs spin around in different

directions. There you are, wandering around the park barefooted with bedhead in your bedroom attire,

asking strangers, have you seen my mommy? What day is it? Do you know that I write a popular

weekly editorial column? Of course you have. We all have. All of us, every single one of us.

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