Limbo

My dad was diagnosed with COVID. My brother has a fever today. My mom is considered essential. I can’t do math. Tomorrow is April Fool’s Day. Today, I exist in limbo. Maybe I’ve been here for awhile. How long? Time has fallen away. My boyfriend’s birthday is tomorrow. Today, I ate raspberries. Yesterday, Drake and I were laughing together. Today, he’s talking about switching his mattress. He has a fever. My dad doesn’t want to get tested. My mom forgot about a call. I don’t know where I put my glasses. Email says 8 unread. My summer has not begun. My aloe is leaning against the window. I think I broke my chair. There’s not enough clutter in my room. There’s too much space. Where is the sun? There’s a sledgehammer in the distance…CLANK…CLANK…CLAN-why can’t I hear the birds? There’s a plastic bag on my lawn. When did I start calling coronavirus COVID? There’s a passage I want to read again. The songs are too repetitive. The sky is so glum. Why is it so glum. My professors say they’re sorry. What’s there to be sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t disinfect the car. The stick shift in my driveway has moss on it. Maybe the deer enjoy the pool water. Does my dad blame himself for being sick? How can Drake still do homework? Why is it so warm. I miss my shoes. I never thought I’d get sick of Hoizer. My cousin keeps tricking me with those Instagram challenges. Does Minecraft have a Twitter? Who cooks dinner if we’re all sick? Can we reinfect each other? How do we clean the towels every time? I can’t tell if people are being safe or racist. I don’t think I care. 

Gwendolyn Lam ‘23
Swarthmore College