As the pandemic continued, its effects had impacted in ways unexpected: the disconnect with science-based facts, the inability to maintain focus, the inclination to attribute the unfolding challenges as an aspect of some grand conspiracy plan, and the general inability to cope with even a modicum of inconvenient disruption. As such, the worst parts of our collective nature were empowered to display themselves. For me, the greatest loss was the diminishment of the empathy that was now so greatly needed to simply continue within a society that seemed inclined to forgo collaborative efforts needed to evolve a cure. We became much sicker than a mere virus had wrought. Historically, women have had to deal with the consequences of missed opportunities that manifest in war, famine, and contagion. A lone figure, adrift in a landscape of beauty and plenty, once so promising, now confronts the realities of being alone. Is it an atonement? A societal penance? The act of clasping one’s hands to their face is a moment of grief that can not otherwise be expressed for when our grief has no words we are alone to confront ourselves. It is a scream without words that is the conversation of 2020.