People are saying it’s over. You have to ask yourself, is it? Really? Haven’t they said it before? The specter of going through that again, the endless Zoom calls, work on Zoom, wine tastings on Zoom, funerals and weddings on Zoom and the nights spent hunkered down in front of the computer as one video flowed into the next is not something I care to revisit. It was all pretty harsh, but somehow, I was managing until I ran out of wool! The websites promised prompt delivery in about two to four weeks. Four weeks! I would never survive that. And so, I double masked. Drove into the city. Parked illegally. Kept my flashers going as I ran in, pointed to the various shades of yarn. Overpaid. Didn’t even wait for them to package it up before I ran back out seconds before a cop flipped open her parking ticket book. She took one look at me, arms clutching mountains of wool, eyes wild with sheer terror and waved me on. By the time I got home my bladder had had it. But, my fingers? They were back to being busy as my anxious brain downshifted to a low hum.
Featured Artist: Jeila Guermian