Saturday, January 23, 2021

Week in Seven Words #533

This covers the week of 4/5/20 - 4/11/20.

We set up a socially distanced movie night, each of us in our homes texting each other now and then. It's a mini-series adaptation of a book, and I think I would've normally liked it. Now I don't have patience for it.

People being ungenerous and snide while telling others to just be kind.

The seders are lovely. Each one an island of relative calm.

Last-minute cleaning. Most of it is actually cleaning; some of it involves stuffing unsorted papers into tote bags.

One volunteer gardener among the flowering plants that are almost as tall as she is.

Hit by a tsunami of anxiety, and I don't handle it well.

I know when it's 7 pm because that's when the cheering for healthcare workers starts up.

Sunday, January 10, 2021

Week in Seven Words #532

This covers the week of 3/29/20 - 4/4/20.

The convenience store is a cube of white light on a dark street. A masked cashier listens to 80s rock while staring out the window.

In every building on the block, people are at their windows cheering on healthcare workers. They shout, clap, whoop, bang on pots, and blow on trumpets and recorders. Overall, it's a cheerful sound, but I can't help thinking of jail inmates banging their metal cups against the bars.

This feels like a lost springtime. There are blossoming trees and other kinds of loveliness, but it all seems out of reach, as if it's in a parallel world.

Streets emptier and sirens more prevalent.

A magnolia blossom cradled in the split trunk of a tree.

I don't know where I want to walk. I just walk.

He wears gloves every time he needs to open a door. With a gloved hand he also pulls down his mask and scratches his face.