A Plate of Pandemic
Creativity in Times of Crisis
To: Jackson Packer, AustralAsian Consolidated Publishing From: Museum of Modern Political Decisions March 7, 2060 Dear Jackson, I enjoyed meeting you at the Monarchy Symposium last week. Your speech was inspired, and it is indeed regrettable
Terre Haute, Indiana, maximum security prison, 2003 The kids were five, seven and nine when he went in. Debbie didn’t bring them to visit Mike for over two years. When they finally came, they barely made eye contact.
I was probably done with the lemming herd long before the corona bug hit, but still captive to the mandatory American myth of communal technological bliss, even as a seditious wild current coursed within me. That dark current bided its
Bobby took in everything with those startling, blue eyes; he was only three and a half when we drove from Botswana to South Africa to see a Rugby game. My husband Jason had received word from the authorities that he
To smell of something other than sweat and body odor is an important social obligation. This doesn’t suit me very well, living as I do in a rusted-out VW in the middle of the Arizona desert. The VW is great
Twenty minutes before Richard witnessed the woman in the Toyota clobber her kid, he suddenly realized that he’d fallen behind in his sanitation duties. What. A. Dick in a Box. What. A. Dr. Dickenstein! It was nearly closing
Friends: I think now is a great time to start maintaining a journal if you don’t already. Write down what this feels like, what your days look like, the kids at home, the lines at the stores, the empty freeways
The Blind used to be a neighborhood bar in this far northern town at the edge of the world. And because of that, the interior had to rock. It had to be a place where people who inhabit the