This collective blog is meant to capture a sense of immediacy--our reaction to the coronavirus right now, not looking back in hindsight. Therefore, we’ve invited numerous people to submit a blog/response about their circumstances: their difficulties, fears, rants, dreams, dialogues, personal pep talks, task lists, meditations, visions. It feels important to record our states and to represent their variety and complexity.
Friday, June 12, 2020
Alone (Williams)
Theresa Williams's novel, The Secret of Hurricanes, was a finalist for the Paterson Fiction Prize. Her stories and poems have been published in Chattahoochee Review, Gargoyle, Hunger Mountain, The Sun, and many other magazines.
I so love this. I was "alone" until I was 36, when I met my husband. (Roommates for a few years, otherwise, me, alone, who never had even a bed alone till I left home at 22). I always knew that being alone was better than being in bad company. (omg, Theresa, I just realized this is YOU! From UF! In the day!) Anyhow, I love this. Except the bug part. I don't say hello to bugs. But I don't kill them!
I so love this. I was "alone" until I was 36, when I met my husband. (Roommates for a few years, otherwise, me, alone, who never had even a bed alone till I left home at 22). I always knew that being alone was better than being in bad company. (omg, Theresa, I just realized this is YOU! From UF! In the day!) Anyhow, I love this. Except the bug part. I don't say hello to bugs. But I don't kill them!
ReplyDeleteHello, Diane. I hope life is treating you well!
ReplyDelete