On Day 17, Savannah and I took a walk in the neighborhood. It was the weekend, but didn’t feel like it. Time is sliding by in starts and lurches. It’s interesting, like having an adversary that is yourself, that is the environment, and these things inflame each other and are quickened to overwhelming proportions by the slippage of time. I wonder if there is a particularly good novel about confinement.
It is exciting in a way to be living in a time of plague. I suppose these posts should be more historically friendly, more descriptive of the mundane events of each day. Maybe from here I’ll just do that. That way, it’ll make sense with the pictures.
