The husband said, “I just heard something that blew my mind. One in twenty people are projected to be infected by the virus this weekend.” For extra emphasis, he repeated, “One in twenty.”
The operation will take only a few minutes. I don my mask and slip the gloves and pruning shears into my back pocket and take to the streets.
There isn’t a single anchovy in my kitchen. They’ve all gone to catching our cat, a former rescue and psychotic as hell, who’s been missing for five days.
The only way to witness and make sense of the tragedies surrounding us seems to me to acknowledge the small graces given to us for now.