I dug up my collection of writing since the end of February 2020. It amounts to one short story, a few blog articles like this one, and half a dozen book reviews. Pathetic. Was I stuck in the dreaded “writer’s block,” or had the tank finally run dry after 20 years of writing?
spring belatedly crept up on us we barely noticed we hauled up all the drawbridges barricaded ourselves in against the pestilence but it invaded by stealthand left us powerless as peasants
The shutdowns in response to Covid19 have been almost as impactful as the pandemic itself. Some people might argue that shutting down was more of a shock to our modern lives than the outbreak itself. As we slowly emerge from the first go-round of the disease – the experts predict, quite convincingly, that there will be more. We’ve already seen evidence of how modern society may change. Some things may change immediately, others may take a bit more time, and require a lot more pain before they crystalize.
I know that – Some of you have – Cleaned the stove, tidied your closets, painted your bathroom, emptied your cupboards – Washed the floors, cleansed your cushions, vacuumed your cars – Written three novels, painted five pictures – And accomplished countless other achievements.
Love is but a syllable in a book – two other words are you and me – together we determine how bright – the last light leaves the day