Things to Do in a Pandemic
Make playlists. Listen to a song called Persephone again and again, but not so loudly you can't hear yourself think. Make your bed as soon as you get up, but climb right back under the covers again after breakfast with her beside you. Tackle things you are and are not looking forward to together.
Your pen moves across a wide page and she reads about something called "desalination".
Forget about your eyebrows for days. Maybe weeks. Let the clean laundry linger on the dining table, pushed aside to the far wall in a bid for space. Group games pull you now more than formal chairs, but that could change. Just yesterday you felt well enough to clean the kitchen and you did. Windexing the light fixtures is a particular state of wellness, or a stage of social distancing--it's hard to say anymore.
Throw open the windows and pretend it's the same as going outside. Try for the magical cross-breeze, where something blows in, blows out and through.
Pray, without knowing it: Make us new.
Feel long days and brighter light carrying you. Try not to worry about next winter. It is like a planet you have not visited: Who can really imagine it?
Any journey ahead will be lived just like this day. Moment by moment. Sheets pulled up and down, time moving across the wall in a slideshow of shadow and spotlight.