A shuttered flower shop
April 15, 2020


Time blurs. Every day feels like it’s either Monday or Saturday. Why is there something so heartbreaking about the sound of someone you love diligently brushing their teeth?

I joined the line outside the supermarket, all of us spaced six feet apart and wearing our mandated masks while we waited for someone to exit to somebody else could go inside. This gave me plenty of time to contemplate the message on the back of the woman’s windbreaker in front of me: “You can’t control the wind but you can adjust your sails.”

Each night in 2020 I'm writing a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I want to etch these days into my memory before I forget them. Before the world changes completely.
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