From the Corona Files
I’d like to write about my discomfort this past winter that wouldn’t allow me to make plans, that made it hard to write, that caused me to question my faith. That feeling that one cannot get “started.”
I’d like to write about that feeling of being here and not being here. That real life is elsewhere. That the future was moving further away each day.
I’d like to write about living endlessly in a dream state while in quarantine.