Losing His Master's Voice, London

I've started to dream about face masks. Huge ones, ones that are alive, surreal ones, constricting ones, ones that change shape and form - they are everywhere and have become omnipotent so quickly that I can't catch my breath, sometimes literally. The main image I took today is of the long closed HMV flagship store in Central London. I thought it spoke volumes, or the distinct lack of them(!), about the ongoing crisis.
Today's extra, "Everything Is Unclear", was taken on Oxford Street, which still felt weirdly odd and disengaged.
Had some bad news today - my brother has, finally, been told he is going to be made redundant. He's understandably a bit down and is now supposed to organise his own "one on one" exit interview with his line manager who he's hardly ever met and knows nothing about his work achievements. If it was me I would tell them to go hang. It's all been handled appallingly badly. Why can't people at management level in this country handle these things with good grace and a modicum of emotional intelligence? I'm very annoyed and sad for him.