Two women sit across a table, six feet apart, on a back patio, drinking beers from cans that have been sanitized. One brought the other a loaf of bread.
Strangers on Facebook offer help. Friends on Facebook offer services: tutoring in music theory, in Spanish, in chemistry.
Some people at the grocery store scoff, but nervously: there’s no toilet paper, no meat in the cases, I’m not afraid like the snowflakes - but ah, the waters run clear in the Venetian canals! There are dolphins!
Florists brought the flowers from all their canceled events and gave them away in a square.
Tickets that once cost $45 and up are now free and front row: opera for everyone! (who has internet, that is)
Naturalists trapped close to home post photos of turtle doves and garter snakes, not begrudging these common friends but delighting in them. Nature is never far for those with eyes to see the mosses and the “weeds.”
Reading groups cancel, then switch to online hangouts. We’ve been ready for this for so long, and we didn’t even know it.
A birthday approaches, and as housemates discover all the delivery options, we plan for chocolate cake, for pots of mussels in white wine broth, for sanitizing every container as it comes in. It hasn’t been five days, and I’ve already used 2 pounds of butter.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a walk, because this room is quite dark, and I’ve been looking for the light.
