The whole world is holding its breath, waiting, for the cruelest amount of time, which of course, is the

unknown end. No amount of press and data can tell us when we will once again open our doors

and greet one another maskless. The whole world is turning purple from the effort of keeping

it all in, all this air, trapped in us as we turn the question over in our minds again “What will

the world be like tomorrow?” Today strangers avert their eyes in the grocery store,

because what is more intimate than this shared burden? This huge,

overwhelming fear that does not overlook a single one of us. And yet

when have we ever been more united except for this moment in

time? For this one, oxygen-starved moment in our history, we

forget the fight of politics, of religion, of popularity and status.

Our eyes are turned to our neighbor, more than an arms

reach away, to lend an immaterial hand. We pray for

the ones in the hallways of hospitals, wishing they

had the breath that we hold. Dying in the arms

of strangers in hazmat suits, away from their

families. We close our eyes, kiss our

children and pray for the end. No

more fevers, no more fear, no

more eerily quiet world.

Just a joyful opening

of doors and

a collective


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