We walk up Seventh Avenue in Brooklyn, weaving back and forth across the sidewalk in an attempt to keep appropriate social distance. I can taste my own breath in my mask and I feel a little anxious just being outside.
"That guy's doing it wrong," Katie says loudly, pointing at a man with his mask dangling around his neck. He furtively pulls it up over his mouth and nose and doesn't make eye contact as we continue on our way.
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