A Dispatch from Month Four of Quarantine

A personal reckoning with the dialectic between pain and pleasure.

Without looking it up, I know exactly when lockdown got serious:  Friday, March 13.  The entire day felt off.  I remember parking my bus in the evening—the lot was uncharacteristically quiet—and thinking, “Yeah, I won’t be doing this again for a while.”

Later that evening, the county I work for closed down all the schools.  The closure would last until the end of the term.  My child’s school, in Maryland, would shutter the following Monday.  

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