I have been working for Offworld as a Ghostwriter/Editor for almost ten years writing articles, short stories and novels. I'm a published novelist with my 5th book being released in the summer of 2020. I've ghostwritten eleven novels to date in various genres including mystery, suspense and sci-fi thrillers, romance and comedy. Currently, I live half-way up a mountain in Spain with my dog, Bruford. Like everyone else, Bruford and I are locked down. We're remote enough for it not to affect Bruford's walks and general goings-on but I miss hugs. Indeed, there are two things that have become clear in recent times. . How many times we do actually touch our face during the average day. On analysis, it appears I spend 7% of the day with my finger up my nose . How important hugs are. We didn't really hug socially. Handshake. Peck on the cheek. Then we encompassed the European way and now it's all hugs. I miss them. When all this is over we should organise ""Hugfest,"" A victory sneer at viruses. Reinstatement of our basic right to hug. A celebration. What could go wrong? Here in Javea, every night at 8 pm, the church bells ring out and the apartments down in the port area of the town rise up with music and cheers to thank the police and all the people who have to work in supermarkets, gas stations, pharmacies for staying open and working. They are saluting public servants on the front line. And in response, all the sirens in town go off as one in recognition. I'm starting to think Bruford might like to have a one or two more noses to lick, but in the meantime, my belief in humanity is holding strong.