Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Week in Seven Words #524

This covers the week of 2/2/20 - 2/8/20.

A girl riding on her dad's shoulders raises her pink mittens to a drizzly sky.

The sunlight crackles on salt-encrusted streets.

The gutters are belching litter into a foul-smelling wind.

She has no illusions about what she'll learn. She has little hope that she'll do better. The next few hours are just a way to pass the time.

They fall back on what sound like programmed responses. A "hm" in response to an observation. A tiny set of one-word answers to any questions you may have. Chunks of your own speech echoed at you. Their eyes drift to a wall, a window, and rest expressionlessly.

She thinks of how to make every corner of her home more lovely. The flowers I come across while climbing the stairs make me smile.

"I don't belong in school," she says. But where does she belong? She doesn't know. Maybe there's a quiet room somewhere with a door that locks, a pair of ear buds, and a phone.

Wednesday, September 16, 2020

COVIDiary: Masked and On Foot

One thing I've been doing during the pandemic is walking for miles. Here are some of the highlights:

The 42nd Street branch of the New York Public Library


A small park near the American Museum of Natural History