In April 2020, we invited writers in Quebec to submit a story of a single day during the strange, uneasy time of coronavirus and pandemic, of social distancing and self isolation, of lockdown and quarantine.
We’re thrilled to announce that these stories have been gathered in Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic (Guernica Press). To learn more and buy the book, please visit https://www.guernicaeditions.com/title/9781771836579.
Please also join us on the QWF FB Community page, and let the authors know if their words resonated.
This piece is by Jen Deleskie, writing on April 2, 2020.
I don’t know how many stairs there are between the Boulevard and Summit Crescent, even though I’ve climbed them at least ten times over the past two weeks. If I did, I believe these stairs would feel more rooted in my world, like a poem committed to memory. I’m not present enough these days to count stairs or memorize poetry. I used to run on the Mountain, but now I stick to my neighbourhood, which is less familiar to me than I thought. Today I saw Frère André’s chapel for the first time. Today I watched a woman sweep her postage-stamp front lawn, making a small and meticulous pile of last-year’s leaves.
To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic