I’m okay again, if I don’t read the news, if I play enough video games, if I’m smoking weed, when I’m working on something.
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But coronavirus has nothing on retirement, for nobody knows where I am or what I have been doing
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Preparedness only comes in retrospect, after hundreds of thousands have already died. But at least there is that: preparedness. Preparedness for the next one.
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It’s just me, the clock and the heater now. I have spent my life searching for a quieter place.
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Jagged orange lines brought the cracked cement to life. Gnashing teeth and bulbous eyes were held captive on a disfigured face. It was more real to Sidewalk Boy than disease, death, collapse, or anything else.
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